The Black Umbrella
by ImNaturallySuper
Summary: In a world so often cast in shadow, a darkness comes again for Buffy Summers. But this time she has two brothers by her side, and both are willing to shine a light on every corner just to keep her alive. (Sequel to A Garden on the Roof.)
1. Casting Shadows

Buffy fingered the small orb at her neck. The last orb of Thesulah in existence. It had been hand crafted by Willow herself to house Dawn's soul. And Dawn's soul only. Yet somehow in the depths of Hell Buffy had forgotten that, willing it to take in Dean's battered essence. The orb had relented. She still didn't understand why. Never even questioned it.

She smiled fondly at her shattered past. Life hadn't changed much since Dawn had sealed the gates of Hell forever. She still woke, she still fought the forces of evil. Only now their numbers were visibly shrinking.

Bobby and Giles had started charting their numbers and Buffy had cut swathes through them gladly. Giles kept in near constant contact with Bobby but Buffy didn't know what they really talked about. The word boring came to mind. She never bothered to ask the details. She enjoyed being the brawn, the thinking part of their planning was too much for her lately.

Her cold fingers slid over the orb again. She dared a look down at it. It shone brightly from the inside out, faint green light throbbing with a life of its own.

She swallowed at the sight. Lucifer's gift to Buffy. A piece of Dawnie, forever with her now. When she'd opened that box her heart had been on display. Now it always would be. _God Dawn, how I miss you._

The last images of her sister traced before her. A woman, so grown up in the year lost to them, disappearing into the folds of Hell's gates.

A key. Forever turned. She was this worlds savior, and so many beyond this one as well.

Buffy took another turn about the graveyard. The night had crept on slowly but only brought with it one vampire. Vampires, the one plague that continued to be a problem had been turning newbie vamps at an alarming rate lately. The oldest legions, originals who had outlived the tests of time had heard the rumors of what Dawn had done.

Some had fled to Europe hoping the second Hellmouth was still open for business. It wasn't. What Dawn had done was final, and somehow it had extended to every way in or out of Hell. All gates were closed. Only Lucifer himself came and went. Buffy wasn't sure if he would prove to be a problem yet though.

Many vampires started forming teams, joining forces to create small armies. That had made Buffy smile. They feared her. She liked it. How they died was up to them, and apparently they prefered mass murder.

Xander had been working non stop for the past six months on several new weapon designs, most that went boom first and asked questions later.

Somewhere out of the grief of losing both Tara and Dawn he had found his footing. The man that had come out of it all was a version of Xander Buffy couldn't help but admire. He was cold and logical when it came time. He swung into the fight without hesitation now, as if he fought for more than the moment, but a better future. He wasn't as quick with a smile anymore, yet he was still there underneath it all. Buffy knew where to find him when the time came. So did Willow.

Willow heart was under repair. Slowly but surely Giles was coaching her to form stronger bonds with the Earth's magicks. She was learning faster than she cared to admit. Buffy could see how many times she feared her own power, but she'd never admit it. She wanted to be in this fight, for Dawn as much as for Tara.

Buffy couldn't have been happier. She could stand losing a lot, but Xander and Willow were her center. Something so solid you often took it for granted, as if it was the cement beneath your feet and nothing more. But Buffy knew deep down they held her where she was. Without them she'd have fallen long ago.

Buffy's cell buzzed gently in her back pocket. Her eyes narrowed on the missed call. _Sam._

He was off on another one of his brother's missions. They were scrubbing the Earth clean of their mess he'd said. He'd guilted Sam time and again to take to the road and follow leads. After awhile Buffy hadn't even fought for him to stay. She understood his need to be with his brother.

If the roles had been reversed she would've ran towards Dawn like the hounds of Hell were on her heels.

Sam had spent the better part of the last four months on the road now. She missed him. Found herself turning to him in the night, her hand reaching for his form on the empty pillow beside her.

Missing him was an unnatural feeling. She hadn't felt this way before. As much as she'd ached for Angel or tormented herself over Riley (whom she was sure now she never truly loved), she'd never quite felt this longing. It was like a piece of her really _was_ missing. And she was beginning to think it was a part she really needed.

Her mind had taken a backseat to most situations lately. Giles had chided her for being absentminded time and again. Leaving the shower running after she'd used it, keeping the backdoor open on several occasions, putting the whole can of soup, metal and all, in the microwave.

That last one had resulted in a tiny house fire Willow had been on hand to snuff out with magick. Buffy's face flamed at the memory. She often felt like she was missing something important. So important she'd wake in the night, afraid she was in the wrong place, wrong time.

By the time reality settled back in it was too late. The feeling had fled. Or maybe she had suppressed it. She didn't know.

All she knew was that she owed this world that clean slate Dean spoke of. She had let that legion of demons flood the skies and call out for victims. All for a chance to reach a sister she'd never really found.

She pocketed her cell. Sam had left a voicemail. He called once a night around this time, always leaving a message for her. She usually saved it to listen to before bedtime. Savoring the sound of his voice. Letting it lull her to a place where worry didn't exist.

She returned the favor in the mornings. That was their game now. It had been weeks since she'd actually spoken to him in real time. A part of her longed desperately for the weight of his kiss, his hard body pressing into her yielding form. Yet the slayer half knew what they were doing was a worthy sacrifice.

She could give up now to have later. She wanted that future Lilith had taunted her with. If all these moments were her penance she'd gladly pay them.

By the time she wound her way home it was well past midnight. The sight of the impala in her driveway made her heart lurch. _Sam! He was here._

She tore through the yard, taking the steps at the base in one bound. She erupted into the house like a tornado, all her hopes set to a wind about her.

When her eyes connected to Dean's in the living room it was like old magnets finally coming back together. Even though they hadn't done so in so long, they still knew where to find each other and settle in perfectly.

She hadn't seen him since that day they'd celebarted Dawn's life with a funeral above the school. He had aged greatly, yet it was all in his gaze. The one now rivoted upon her as if she was the only person in the room.

She perceived Xander and Giles lurking behind him in the distance. But she couldn't break the stare he now pinned on her. Because it spoke volumes. It carried with it a grief she'd seen before. One she'd seen on herself as well.

_Loss. _

_Sam was dead._

Suddenly there was a cry. A scream ripped forth from her. She knew it was her, could feel the pain of it in her chest. But she couldn't hear anything. Suddenly Dean's hands were on her and she allowed it in their shared grief.

She shook her head, refusing to believe what she hadn't even heard.

"No." She chanted on repeat, her head following suit again with the word and shaking to and fro.

Dean's grip firmed on her arms but he didn't say a word. Over the chaos of the moment everything was still and quiet. Somewhere beyond the sounds she knew she was making she heard the gentle beep of a reminder voicemail on her cell. _Sam!_

Instantly Dean was thrown from her, her arms feeling frantic in search for her last shred of hope. She fumbled with the buttons while Dean struggled with his own tears, ones that hadn't been there before.

When a strangers voice came to her over the receiver explaining they had found this phone and her's was the most dialed number so if they knew of how to find the owner please to call them back, her heart deadened.

Buffy's gaze lifted unsteadily to Dean's. "Is this really happening?" she asked, grief coating her tone.

Behind him Giles shuffled nervously, wanting to step into the fray but unsure of what to say.

Dean only shook his head. "Not again."

Buffy stared in confusion. He sounded so resolved, as if he'd sold his soul again already.

"What...w-what happened?" she began. "Where is he?"

"Some place they pretend we can't get to."

"What does that mean!?" Buffy spat.

"It means that we don't have to accept this." Dean moved a step away from her then, as if she would weakened him just being near.

She choked back on the moment that had rushed in on her future and crushed it with one blow. _Her_ future. Didn't she deserve that future she saw? With Sam and their son. It had felt so real. It still felt real.

"Dean." Xander called softly from the edge of the couch. His tone wasn't questioning though, it held a warning.

Dean's head snapped back to where Xander stood, assessing him. "I didn't come back to be talked down. I came back because _she_ means something to us. _All_ of us." His voice held and edge even the new version of Xander didn't dare to touch. Yet Xander's eyes still held a darker quality, one that now clashed with Dean's anger.

"She deserved to know." Dean went on, defending. Always defending.

Buffy's eyes slid to Dean's again. Pain exploded between them. They had a way of sharing emotion that way. Thoughts too. His spoke volumes between them now.

_I _will_ get him back for you. _His spoke.

_How? The gates are closed. No deals are being made. _She cantered.

_I don't care what it takes. Nothing is ever final. You were the one who taught me that._

With that he was gone. And with it Buffy's last bit of strength. She sank to the ground. Xander was surrounding her then, just as Dean had but she barely felt him. In fact she didn't feel much of anything.

An hour ago she had hope tucked away in her back pocket. Her message from Sam. One more day marching forward through the bad to get to her finish line where Sam was always waiting.

Now he was dead. _Dead. _She let the word roll around her mind like an unwanted invasion. Her heart spat it out again. Expelling with it anything Dean had said. She hadn't heard how it'd happened. Hadn't seen his body stop breathing. Even then, _even then..._

They had come back from this sort of thing before. In their world death was just another word. It held no real meaning. It was a choice. One she wouldn't allow him to make without her.

Before she knew it she was brushing off Xander's embrace and tearing off down the road after Dean's car. By the time it rounded the corner she pushed herself faster, willing him to see her in the rearview mirror.

His eyes flickered to the reflective surface. It caught her in it and the impala screeched to a stop. Before she even neared it's end he was in the street with her. Their arms entangled in a wild moment. One born of frustration.

Buffy's chest tightened and before her the fog lifted. As if the state she had been in for so long was now a thing of the past. She clung to Dean like he was a life raft and he the same with her.

To anyone from the outside they must've looked like a couple finally reuniting.

Buffy didn't care how they looked. Dean was her way back to a timeline where Sam existed. Whatever cemented her to Sunnydale would be there when she returned. It always was. In this moment she belonged with Dean, fighting his fight. For it was her fight too.

Where Sam was. Whatever the details. That would come later. Dean thought they could get him back, so Buffy did too now.

By the time they parted several moments had passed. Dean hadn't been first to break their circle, yet Buffy was sure she hadn't either. They'd sifted apart the same way they'd come together. As if meant to.

Time wafted on between them. Her hair catching in his hands as they drew away from one another. He let the blonde strands dance over his fingers before returning them to rest on her shoulders.

The moment should've been awkward but it wasn't. It held promise.

"His body?" Buffy asked lightly, breaking their spell.

"Safe. I didn't bury him."

Buffy nodded. "I need to see him."

They both moved to either side of the impala in unison.

"I can explain on the way." Dean said quietly.

They both paused before they got in, surveying the last moment before an uncertain future. Buffy saw everything of herself reflected back in his eyes. Pain for the present. Fear for the future. Yet a deep-seated trust in each other always.

It was a moment ever warrior needed before battle. One you shared with your brothers in arms. One that said, _No matter the outcome, I have no regrets._

And instantly she knew, she didn't. Despite their time apart and all that had pasted between them. She _did_ trust Dean. Had fought by his side, saw how he protected her above himself. How he loved his brother above any other.

He fought the selfish parts of himself, even now. She knew it was an ongoing battle. But one she suddenly had faith he could win.

Even with the beast inside them both they'd fought for a better version of who they were and they both now deserved a chance to be who they'd fought so hard for.

In that moment she welcomed this new page of their future. Sam wasn't gone. In her world, nothing was forever. She'd fight, as she always did. For him, for her, for their son she once saw in a vision long ago.

And when she was done fighting this battle she would fight the next. She'd never give up. And when she had them both in her arms she'd rest. But only when it was safe to do so. Only when the world was rid of every last shadow cast upon them. And even if that moment never came, then she'd resolve to fight forever.

Because someone, somewhere, deserved the happy ending she was fighting for.

Even if it wasn't her.


	2. All Around Me (Part 1)

Buffy snapped awake. The moisture in the air suffocating her. She tried to get ahold of her surroundings and failed. Darkness had her enthralled. Her eyes were open, her senses alert, yet she saw nothing but a black void.

"Buffy? What is it, what's wrong?" A voice called to her from the bed she had just shot out of. Her bruised heart lurched to life at the familiar sound. _Sam._

A light clicked on, harsh tones flooding the small room. It was unfamiliar. A cheesy motel by the looks of it. Sam lounged a few feet away on the bed rubbing his gritty eyes.

Buffy didn't blink. She let the sudden illumination burn her eyes. The sight of him alone laying more scars upon her soul. _This isn't real._

When Sam sat up Buffy tried her best not to visibly flinch. Her lips quivered in confusion. "Where am I? What is happening?"

Sam raked a hand through his hair. Buffy watched the motion, entranced. He sighed at the expression on her face, a dawning coming over him. "Did you have another nightmare? Come back to bed, please. You are here now, with me."

Buffy listened to the words with a fascination she hadn't quite felt since she'd first fallen for him. "You are here..." she mumbled, as if in a daze.

He got up from the bed, revealing that he wore a simple gray undershirt and jeans, his feet bare. Buffy shook her head. "This isn't real, _this_ is the dream. _You are dead!_"

The words burned her throat. Sam's eyes cast shadows of doubt. "Buffy, it was just a nightmare. I'm here." He reached for her and she moved away swiftly. He frowned at the gesture. His hand stilled midair, a question in his gaze. One so simple it screamed across the mere feet that separated them, but one she didn't have the answer to; _What is wrong?_

"Buffy?" Sam started, concern in his voice.

Buffy's head shook violently, tears threatening, "This can't be happening."

Sam waited a moment more, his eyes taking in her defensive stance. He sighed deeply, his large chest rising and falling with the effort. She watched as his lips set in a grim line. _So like him..._

"D-dean came to tell me you were dead."

Sam looked fraught with worry, but his head firmly shook once. "No Buffy. Dean is down the hall, just a few hotel rooms away."

Buffy followed his glance towards the door. Her head shot through every last memory she had of yesterday. The message from Sam she'd been looking forward to listening to before bed. Dean's arrival in Sunnydale. His news of Sam's death. Her world splitting from any version of reality that mattered.

Her and Dean had drove off towards Sam's body, hell bent on a way of saving his soul. Or forever fighting for a way to clean up this world before joining him themselves. They'd finally shut their eyes just before two o' clock in the morning, Dean resting his head back on the driver's side of the impala, Buffy curling up in the backseat.

It was an unspoken bond they shared now. Words weren't needed. He'd simply pulled over and they'd shared a look, one meant to close the day for them. It was their version of goodnight. Moments later both had been asleep, exhaustion taking them both swiftly.

Buffy's last thoughts were of what morning would look like. A world without Sam surely wouldn't welcome the sun, would it?

Sam now stood closer. His fingers reached for her again, cautious. She allowed the contact, their fingers intertwining. He pulled at the fabric of her sleeve and before she knew it she was buried beneath his grasp. His strong arms enfolding her tightly. She cried out once, a force almost inhuman holding her tears back. _Alive, he is alive._

"You are here." She whispered fiercely.

He cradled the back of her head against his chest. "I am."

"What happened? I-I need to talk to Dean." Sam broke away from Buffy, a question in his eyes. Yet he nodded just the same. He flipped open his cell and hit one button. The silence in the room allowed her to eavesdrop on the short conversation.

"Yeah?" Dean's gruff voice barked out from the receiver.

"High tail it over here. Buffy just had a dream."

Silence yawned back at them for a second. "Are we talking about her freaky slayer-mind stuff again?"

Buffy flinched. The last time she'd had a prophetic dream Dean hadn't quite handled it well. Any power that came from her demon side scared him and he wasn't afraid to let everyone know it.

Sam sighed again, his eyes apologizing the best they could. She accepted it with a telling look of her own.

"Yes," Sam said quickly, "just get over here."

It wasn't even a minute before Dean burst through the door. His eyes soaked her up, taking in every inch. Buffy allowed it. She used to feel uncomfortable with their closeness. Now she wouldn't know what to do without it.

"What is going on?" he asked, his concern evident.

"I had a dream," she started slowly, "it felt more real than anything I've ever dreamt of." She glanced at Sam for a second and back to Dean. "You came to Sunnydale with news Sam had died."

The words hung limply in the air. The weight of them off her shoulders. In the dead of night and in the silence she suddenly felt embarrassed for making such a big deal out of a dream.

She continued in hopes to alleviate some of the guilt, "It just felt so real. Just as real as this does now. The memories are clear and they aren't fading."

Dean nodded at Sam who was getting out his laptop. The brothers sat by the window, a small table with two chairs and no room for Buffy. She was a bit relieved. Her memories swam in unison with the present too violently for her to decipher. Until she could, she didn't want to be too near either of them again. _What if _this _is the dream?_

Dean barked orders at Sam. "Dreams, curses, get it all rounded up."

Sam's fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard. The sound echoing back to her in what seemed like delayed time. She moved to the mirror slowly. Her expression was stricken, her eyes holding a heaviness she didn't want to accept.

Her question came to her own ears as if in an echo, "What happened the day before yesterday?"

Sam looked up from his work, a frown carrying his concern in a way she often saw from him. It was Dean who spoke first. "You were in Sunnydale so we don't know exactly. We only came for you last night, Bobby insisted a certain hot-spot army of baby vamps was a three man job. We explained all this to you yesterday."

Something in Buffy's eyes must've shown her true confliction over that statement. In a second Sam was reaching for her again. "Buffy, we are real, this is _real._"

His hands engulfed her face and forced her chin up. Dean looked away. Buffy's eyes slid to Sam's nervously. "It doesn't _feel_ real."

She ignored the pain that flashed across his features. "Don't," he ordered her suddenly. "Don't do this to yourself. I am real, we are here, and we are together. Don't you know by now, _nothing_ can keep me from you."

The power of his gaze. The strength of his will. The ferocity of his words. He was so confident that even she began to believe it.

She nodded gingerly and he pressed a kiss to her temple before turning away. It sealed her doubts away for a moment. Her eyes flickered to Dean and she knew he saw it in her; the hesitation Sam had been confident he assuaged.

She let Dean see it for a second too long, but then again she let Dean see a lot in her. More than she ever showed Sam. With Sam, it was more than sharing her fears, it was pretending like she didn't have any. When he stood by her side she wanted more than anything to change the way she saw the world.

It would hurt him to know his efforts to ease her fears barely scratched the surface. She loved him too much to be another burden to him. She wanted to be the one thing he could see all the beauty of the world in. Even if it wasn't true. Even if she had to spent the next sixty years swallowing her black secrets.

Dean's gaze darkened on hers, thoughts passing between them. _I will figure this out for you._

Her head wanted to shake, but she held it still. _I am not sure if you can._

_Never say never, remember?_

She turned from him then, listening to their theories from the farthest window. She basked in the light of a new day yawning over the motel parking lot. The heat in the small room was now stifling. Their location, wherever they were, must've been south of Sunnydale. Far from the dry heat of California.

Location, destination, future. It all piled higher. Questions she wanted, but was afraid to ask for. If this moment truly was tangible she'd grasp it with all her might and never let go.

In this existence Sam was alive, and for this moment and the next, they were together again.

But until she knew for sure she'd bite her tongue. Because when all this was said and done she needed something of some reality to salvage, and in this one, it just happened to be named Sam Winchester.


	3. All Around Me (Part 2)

The rest of the day came faster. By noon time the three of them were back on the road. The midday sun of the southern tip of Texas was brutal. Dean kept all the windows down and the music high. Buffy knew it was for her benefit.

He knew she didn't want to talk anymore about her dream. Or what still felt like yesterday to her. She couldn't have been more grateful for the time to think. Sam threw the occasional pained look at her in the backseat. She tried her best to ignore them.

She knew she was hurting him by not speaking. But she'd hurt him even more if she allowed her traitorous mouth to utter even one word of what she was thinking.

Dean pulled off into a small dive diner parking lot and clicked off the engine. Silence caught up with them quickly.

Sam's brows rose at Dean's odd smile. "Food, pie, _now._ It's still a good couple hours on the road, no way can I face a nest of vamps on an empty stomach."

His younger brother didn't even hesitate. Driver was boss. Tunes, motels, bars. Dean ran the show on the road, Sam was just along for the ride half the time. He glanced back at Buffy with one leg out the car door, "You want anything?"

Buffy shook her head with a weak smile. Dean piped up before Sam could say something in protest. "Of course she does. Get her something big too, like a burger, none of your rabbit food. Haven't seen her eat since we nabbed her yesterday, she must be starving."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'm right here, stop talking about me like I can't hear you."

Dean cracked a grin Buffy couldn't help but return. "Pie then too?" He leaned to address Sam again casually. "She wants pie, too."

Sam watched the exchange with weary eyes. When he disappeared into the diner Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.

Dean's eyes found hers in the rearview mirror and he adjusted it to her height. "How you holding up back there?"

"Still awake. Still here. _Partially._"

"We will figured it out, I swear to you. And stop worrying so much about Sam, he's a big boy, he can handle it."

Buffy's eyes drilled back into Dean's green ones. "You know it's more than that."

Dean bit back a sigh. "I know."

* * *

Sam's mind was ruining itself from the inside out. Buffy was still a mess after her nightmare, putting a brick wall between them he had to watch go up brick by brick.

They'd eaten and continued on, reaching the border of Texas in record time. The sun was still beating a path across the high sky when they checked into another seedy hotel in town. Dean checked in with Bobby, getting the name and address of his informant hunter in Texas.

The game now was a waiting one. Catching the vampires at sunset was the best chance to destroy them. With the sun on their side they'd steal into the abandoned warehouse they were using to hole up in and hit big and fast from the outside in.

They'd done a couple of these without Buffy already. She had her own wars going on back in Sunnydale. She rarely came out with them unless it was something Bobby insisted they couldn't do without her. Sam had taken to visiting California as much as possible in the past few months but things were strained between them.

Time apart did that.

He watched Buffy unload her pack. Her blonde curls sliding over her shoulder like a curtain. He itched to touch them. She tucked stakes everywhere, in her coat sleeves and on the outside of her pant legs, strapped down by a new device he hadn't seen her sporting before.

He tried not to think about how adorable she looked. He knew better than to let his mind see her that way. She was a warrior. A ruthless one. If he and Dean went in killing fifteen each, which was about right, then that left the other seventy or so vampires for Buffy to handle. And he had no doubts she could.

Her skill had only increased lately. Since she'd returned from Hell she'd been back training full force with Giles. Her speed, strength, resilience, it was all unparalleled. This would be cake with her by their side.

He waited for Dean to stock up at the impalas trunk before going to her side. His hands slid into her hair of their own accord. She turned into him and he held her that way for a moment. Her scent filled his senses.

She leaned back from him, her eyes searching his. "I'm sorry I've been quiet today."

"I know you needed time."

She smiled, the curling of her lips melting his heart. "Thank-you."

"You sure you're ready for this?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "I swear you forget who you are talking to half the time."

He cupped her chin, bringing her lips to meet his. She kissed him slowly and gently. It wasn't the passionate all consuming kisses they'd once shared, it stemmed from a familiar place.

They sought for in each other the things they wanted above anything else to be true. Sam sometimes felt he sought deeper in her than she did him.

He tried to ignore the pain of his thoughts.

When she pressed closer, going on tip toe to press her chest against his, his body responded. He grasped at her back, yanking her into him.

His body felt strung tight as a bow. He meant only to kiss her but now he wanted more. It was something he always wanted with her. Yet they wouldn't get it today, maybe not even tomorrow.

He pulled back with a groan, eyeing her flushed face. "You're so beautiful. I want you all the time." _And I have no idea what I'm going to do with you._

Part of him knew she'd want to return to Sunnydale, but it was getting harder and harder to drop her off there. Living for each morning when he'd hear her message on his cell.

She merely kissed him again, softer this time, but the act was erotic all the same. "I'm yours." She breathed against his mouth. He inhaled her for a moment before setting her away.

They continued to prepare for war, but this time something deeper filled the air between them. He was always so out of reach from her. He didn't understand how he felt this way when he so clearly had her body and heart. She spoke yet it seemed to be coming to him from a million miles away.

He craved to feel her words piercing him, instead of just letting them fall on deaf ears. It was something he feared sharing with anyone, because they wouldn't understand.

On the outside Buffy belonged to him, but somewhere deep down he felt like he was still chasing her. _I've waited so long, when will it be enough?_

* * *

By the time they arrived at the warehouse the sun was just falling below the treeline. The vampires inside would still be sleeping. Time was on their side.

Buffy came equip with several magical sun grenades, courtesy of Willow. The bombs were a brilliant invention, allowing a small burst of sunflames to engulf the area upon detonation. Only problem was the sunflame didn't show prejudice to living creatures. Anything in it's path got burned, human or vampire alike.

She'd given them to Sam and Dean. They needed them more than she did. She was like their smoking gun and they all knew it.

They'd already gone over the plan several times. Dean would go in the front door, tossing a grenade or two to shake things up. Sam and Buffy would cover both exits, and spill over Dean would get from the back line.

It was the moment before the fight and both brother's looked grim and tense. Buffy couldn't contain her excitement. They frowned at her glowing expression. Dean shook his head, disapproving. Sam just looked depressed.

She didn't care. She needed this fight. Something real to get her hands on. Frustration was building inside her. Her thoughts were in near constant turmoil. She wanted more than anything to believe this world was real. One where Sam was alive. But her slayer senses wouldn't bury themselves far enough down to convince her completely.

It didn't _feel_ right.

When Dean crept up to the rusted out doors he gave the signal for Sam and Buffy to spread out and man their stations. The sound of the magic grenade going off was nearly deafening. Cries and screams spilled from the broken glass windows on all sides of the building.

Dean retreated behind Buffy as the first wave of panicked vamps squirmed from the building. Some were on fire already and dusted before she could even touch them. She cut a swath through the dust ridden air and threw stake after stake into the oncoming flow.

Vampires went down over and over again, dust choking the path before her eyes. A few vampires squeezed past her front line defense and she heard them explode behind her as Dean grunted with the effort of swinging his cleaver.

She risked a glance back at him. It was a small one but she paid for it. Immediately two vampires were on her, pushing her weight into the ground. The first one shattered in the sunlight, the second rolled off quickly, hiding in the shadow of the building to her right.

Her foot collided with it's face, slowing it down. The swarm at the door was getting out of control. Sam was nowhere in sight. She hoped he was handling the back door better than she was handling this one. But his position was bathed in more sun, he had the advantage whereas she did not. They'd planned it that way on purpose.

She kicked up, sailing through the air towards another vampire. She tripled dusted a set clawing their way out the door frame.

Her mind wrapped around the visual and in the distance she heard another sun grenade go off.

She flinched at the sound, retreating a step in the process and allowing another couple of vamps a false sense of escape. Pressing forward she slaughtered the next wave without hesitation.

Dean appeared a second later flanking her left. His cleaver drove through the flesh of each demons neck, separating it's head cleanly from it's body.

Another bomb blast.

Buffy moved faster. If Sam was throwing his grenades at this rate something must be wrong. She signaled for Dean to go help him. He threw a furious glance at the dozens of vampires now spreading out beyond the doors. Three broke through suddenly and Buffy dealt them each a death-blow within seconds.

Her gaze fell to Dean again, her ears ringing with another blast from out back. "Dean!" she roared at him in anger. This time his concern for Sam won out over his fear for her safety.

With one last glance at her he rounded the corner, disappearing from sight.

She fought on silently. The flow, the rhythm of the violence was like a heated dance. One she loved to escape in.

Several vampires tried to escape through the side windows. They were dust by the time they hit the ground.

Minutes passed and she'd lost count of the carnage. Thirty? Forty? It was all just dust. The thread slowed and instantly Buffy saw the end of the line. Only seven or so demons now remained inside the structures burnt out entrance. Inches of dust on the floor kicked up in a mist around her as she dove again into the fray.

Her arms ached, she lifted them a bit slower now. A fist caught her jaw sending her reeling. She recovered just in time to deflect a second blow meant to thrust her into darkness.

The stake in her hand shook as it made it's way through the vampires heart. That was a close one. _Too close._

Another grenade blast jarred her thoughts. What was happening back there? If anything they were nearing the end of their supply. Willow had only been able to muster enough magic to fashion a handful of those sun bombs.

Adrenaline forced her away from the remaining frenzy. To hell with the last few vampires, the sun would trap them for another moment more. It was like shooting fish in a barrel.

A loud hoarse cry made her feet falter on the dead grass. The ground couldn't be eaten up fast enough. She pushed through the searing pain burning her lungs. Air didn't sate her. Sweat dripped down into her line of vision.

The sight she found on the other side of the rusted out steel frame wasn't one she was prepared for. Sam stood in the middle of a dozen vampires, all rounding on him for a chance to deliver the final blow. He fought them off with a frantic pace that proved his panic. He was battered and bruised from head to toe, blood coating his clothes and smeared across his face.

"No!" she cried, throwing vampires off him with an anger she hadn't felt since she'd dragged him back from Hell. _Dust, dust, dust._ The vampires felled one by one, never even seeing her coming. Or maybe they just underestimated her. She didn't care. By the time the last one met the end of her stake Sam was teetering on his feet.

Buffy put a hand up to his face, blood coming away with her fingers. He shook his head, gasping for breath in the stifling heat. A sort of silence surrounded them. Buffy touched each scrape and bruise, tracing his damage.

He swatted at her hands, but it was something done so gently she feared for the fight left in him. "Sam please, you could be really hurt."

"No," he grate out, his voice a shadow of what it usually was. "_Dean._" His head snapped furiously at the back door and Buffy's wide eyes took in the horror before her as she neared the entrance for a better look.

Dean's body lay in pieces, or what was left of him. Burnt flesh suffocated the air around her, but Buffy knew it didn't belong to the vampires. It was Dean's.

She stumbled over what was once a stairway down into the buildings back cellar. The piercing light from the sun shone down only a few steps into the stairwell. Right where it ended, Dean's charred remains lay. Blood sprinkled the inner passageways, painting a horrific pollock.

Buffy's eyes burned with the image. She pushed reality to the back of her mind, hated it for even trying to enter. This wasn't real. Couldn't be. Dean wasn't dead.

The picture slid by her mind frame by frame. Not much remained of him, but enough did so she could tell it had once been him. The finale image came to her in a furious rush. She bit back on her fist, vomit surging into her throat. _Oh God, Dean. No, no, no..._

He must have thrown himself into the final mass of vampires, grenade in hand. Leave it to Dean to do something as foolish as sacrifice himself for his brother.

Her wary eyes jumped back to Sam outside. He could see her face but from this angle could not fully make out Dean's body. Her eyes told him the entire story in one fellow swoop. He fell to the grass, surging out of sight, a cry booming into the night from his broken chest.

Buffy's gaze remained on the spot he'd been. The last thread of sun spilled down into the stairwell. She watched in a daze as the dust from what could only be several dozen vampires danced on the beams. The artistry of her surroundings was gruesome. Death sang out all around them, but she feared she'd finally gone deaf.

Because try as she might she couldn't hear her own cries. But somehow she knew they were coming because her throat constricted as if expelling a thousand terrible sounds of grief.

By the time the screams came back to her in real time they were something inhuman. Something she only saw herself becoming once before; the moment she had to decide whether to save Dean from the pit or leave him behind.

It was the beast, rearing it's ugly head. The demon side she'd forever tried to hide.

It was loose in her grief. Never could she remember feeling this way. _Never._

Her own screams were the last thing she heard before a stark darkness took her, and with it, relief from this never ending pain.


	4. Back Here Again?

Buffy woke with Dean's vice-like grip on her shoulder. His fingers bit into her flesh, bruising the skin. She swatted at his hands in frustration.

"What? What is it?" she mumbled. Dean's face swam into her line of vision. Immediately yesterdays events came back to her. The force of which would've knocked her off her feet if she hadn't already been laying down.

She bolted upright in the backseat of the impala, her hands searching the surface for any sense of reality. Her wide eyes closed on his and he shared in her startled expression.

"What's wrong?" he barked. "Was it a dream?"

Buffy shook her head frantically but her words confirmed it. "Yes. No. _Yes._" Her hands moved to touch him and he allowed the contact. Her fingers sliding over the brown leather of his jacket. He surveyed her reaction, concern growing.

"Buffy," he urged, "What's going on?"

Buffy's mind shot back and forth between the last two days, trying to get a grip on which was real. "What happened yesterday?"

He sighed deeply, his eyes growing deadened. "I came to tell you something..." His words trailed off, his voice going with them as his throat constricted.

She watched him swallow in an attempt to free the last of his sentence. But she didn't need to hear it. His yesterday was what she'd thought was a dream. "Sam is dead." She finished for him.

His hands moved away from the back of the seat, out of her reach. He didn't break eye contact though. A thousand thoughts tumbled between them.

_How? _She pleaded.

_Does it matter? We _will _get him back._

"Yesterday you were both alive, and with me."

Dean frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I thought you coming to tell me Sam had died was a dream. When I woke up yesterday we were all in a hotel, heading out on a lead Bobby set us up with. It felt real, _so real._" Her brow furrowed in thought and his eyes darkened in worry. "But there were things about it, moments here and there I doubted if _that_ was the dream. You both insisted it wasn't."

Dean jumped from the impala and rounded the corner, yanking open her door. He motioned for her to exit and she did. He closed the door behind her and boxed her in against the side panels. "You listen to me. Here and now. _This_ is real. Whether you want it to be or not. Sam is _dead_, and I can't get him back without you. I _need_ you. So as much as it hurts, you take that crap and you bury it. Because I won't let you slip away from me. Not now. I need you too much."

Buffy's mind raced to and fro. Both realities banged at the door to her mind, threatening to enter against her will. She didn't want either one of them. In one Sam was gone. In another Dean.

Did it even really matter which was real? She would spend her life broken in both if either were true. At least in this reality she had some strength in Dean, some hope in having them both back.

She nodded glumly. He captured the back of her head dragging her forehead to his lips. Buffy leaned into the warmth of him, the feeling of security.

Let her mind try and knock her down, at least for this moment she had Dean to hold her up.

When he pulled away from her a moment later his breathing was labored. He avoided her gaze and circled back to the drivers side door."You ready to get back on the road?"

She assailed her doubts, crushed them as Dean had said to. She would never be ready to see Sam without life in his lungs, but she was ready to end this capture of her senses to a false world. Dean was her way out of this, she felt that was real, even if nothing else was.

With all of her being she _felt_ it.

He paused before hopping back into the car and pinned her with a forceful glare. One that said_, You have no choices here._

She backtracked on the wayward thought that she just might have another option. It would only ruin her to chase ghosts alone. She didn't have a choice, yesterday was gone, real or not.

"Buffy." He warned, his voice gone rough. "Are you with me or not?"

Her heart sprang to life at his words, her lips spouting the only thing that came to mind, "_Always._"

* * *

Day break has been the surprise of a lifetime. Dean had woken with a start, as usual. He clicked on the side of his cell, eyeing the time. Only four hours of sleep. His body screamed in protest. Movement came slowly, but at least it came.

Sammie was gone. His seat in the impala empty. Tears knotted in Dean's throat. They'd been there for the past thirty-six hours or so. He refused to allow them escape.

He'd watched Sam die. Seen his little brothers lifeless body hit the ground with a force that would've killed him all over again if he hadn't already been dead.

They'd been on the border of Texas, cleaning out a large vamp nest. Bobby had insisted it was a three man job but Sam hadn't let them go for Buffy, insisting they could handle it solo.

Dean didn't know what to make of that. Sam was forever whining about how much he missed the slayer. Sitting by the phone every morning listening to her newest voicemail on repeat before starting each day.

Dean could only feel for his brother's confused heart. He knew how easy it was to lose it to a force like Buffy Summers. The girl was an enigma. Her layers never ended. Just when he thought he understood her she said or did something that surprised the hell out of him.

No matter how much time had passed, she always _still_ surprised him.

Buffy had stirred in the backseat. He turned to eye her jerking movements, cries coming from her lips in her sleep. When the small screams started he shook her awake, fearing of what she was seeing in her nightmares.

It was bad enough they were haunted in their waking hours. If he could protect her dreams too, he would.

Only she'd awoken with a tale of dreams that made her second guess the here and now. Dean didn't want to admit how much that hurt him. He'd done the only thing he could do. Force her to keep going.

If they truly had lost Sam then they'd both grieve, together. But not before then would he lose her to this. The feeling threatened them both. She wouldn't subcumb to it any sooner than he did. If luck was on their side they'd never have to face it at all.

Sam's body was on ice for now. He still hadn't told Buffy exactly what had happened and he was afraid to. Because there wasn't much of his brother left to mourn.

The vampires had torn him apart. His neck snapped at the exact moment a fist shot through his gut. The image was frozen inside Dean.

He had tore up the grass after Sam but vamps came at him full force, knocking the breath from him. He'd fought harder than he ever had. Something had come over him, something otherworldly. A strength he couldn't believe rising up to slaughter every last vampire left.

He still didn't understand it. By the time he reached Sam, it was clear it was over. There was no going back. But that didn't mean he couldn't have his brother back. He'd carted the remains to Bobby's house.

Bobby had been irate, insisting they give the boy a proper hunter's burial. But Dean hadn't listened.

They lived in a world where death was a hiccup. He wouldn't let this be the end. Not after he just got Sam back after so long.

Buffy rode silently in Sam's seat now. They'd be at Bobby's house in under an hour at this rate. He pressed down on the pedal faster. The sooner she saw the truth of what happened the better.

Maybe it was selfish, but he couldn't shoulder this grief alone.

And Buffy would know what to do, somehow she always did.


	5. The Where

Buffy's eyes grew heavy. She knew her and Dean were close to Bobby's and her body should've been frantic. Her heart was just too heavy to riot against her new surroundings.

Dean's occasional glances cemented her in the present. Even if all she wanted was to wake up in a third reality, far from both gruesome worlds she now lived in.

When her eyes slid closed, she allowed the bliss of sleep to collect her. The violation of waking to Sam's looming face lashed out at her. She let out a small cry.

She checked herself. His hands shot out to steady her on the edge of the bed. Her own hands grasped his a bit too tight. He allowed the pain with a mere grimace.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice gravely from sleep. Or a lack of it. She eyed the bottle of whiskey on the nightstand. Instantly she recognized the brand. It was Bobby's favorite.

Her weary eyes surveyed Bobby's master bedroom. She was at Bobby's already? But this time it was Sam who held her together. His roving hands seemed to be collecting pieces of her and putting them back. His fingers shoved back her wayward hair, his palms rubbing at the creases in her clothes.

She waited for the realities to bleed. She closed her eyes, begged for sleep to reclaim her.

It didn't come.

She nodded, if a bit too late, at his question. Here was the world without Dean. Here was where her pain didn't have to hide.

Sam's deep hazel eyes shone a darker green tonight. One she rarely saw. They invaded her grief and tried to pull it out. She looked away.

"I'm sorry." He sighed. "I know you aren't alright. How can you be?"

He spoke as if talking to himself but Buffy turned back into his arms in response. "Where is he?" She asked lightly, her head resting beneath his chin.

She felt him tense. "What?"

"Dean. Where is his body?"

Sam's arms fell to his sides like dead weights. Buffy jerked back. The look of horror on Sam's face said it all. She should know the answer to this. How much time had passed in this reality?

She braced herself for the oncoming conversation. "Just tell me Sam."

He shook his head, tears resting atop his bottom lids. "What are you talking about? You were there!" he accused wildly. "What is going on Buffy? You've been weird ever since we picked you up for this mission."

"I told you what was happening Sam! You didn't want to hear it, or believe it. I am trying to keep up here. Now tell me where Dean's body is!"

He jerked at her tone. Pain flashed over his features. Instantly Buffy knew what they'd done. They'd buried him. Her own head rocked to Sam's rhythm.

"No, no, _NO!_ How did I let this happen? How did you!" Her anger rose.

His voice was deadly low when he replied, "You are not making any sense."

The sound of the bed creaking as Sam suddenly shot out of it made Buffy cringe. She didn't want Bobby overhearing their conversation. She silenced herself for the merest of moments.

When she spoke again, her voice was a fevered whisper, "I don't know what version of me would've accepted all this so soon. But _this_ version of me won't. We are getting Dean back. He'd do the same for you."

Sam's hands found his jaw and rubbed impatiently. "I can't have this conversation again with you. I can't. Dean's dead. He wouldn't want us selling our own lives for the small chance to have his back. He's at rest, let him rest."

His eyes glazed over and Buffy knew that look all too well. Haunting memories of Hell were snapping at him. He visibly fought them off.

She joined Sam. Her hands gripped his like she was falling. "Snap out of it Sam. Dean _needs_ us. He put on a brave face but deep down he feared dying. You know he did. Wherever he is, heaven or hell, he'd want to be back with us. Nothing would keep him from having his brother back in his arms. Don't you dare give up on him."

A muscle ticked in Sam's jaw. "That is easy for you to say. You got your goodbye, you had your closure."

Buffy flinched at the words. He was talking of Dawn, and the truth stung. Yes she had her closure. But not a day went by that she didn't miss her baby sister. Not a day she didn't think of having her back.

This time her voice rose and she let it. "Burying this won't make it go away. And burying Dean was a mistake." She backed away from him quickly, needing to put distance between this sudden introduction to a Sam she wasn't sure she recognized. What had happened since she'd last closed her eyes in Texas?

She'd seen Sam grieve his brother before. Seen him broken and mistrustful of the world around him. But he'd still had hope. He'd buried his brother back then too. But it was just a beginning move in his final game of chess.

This time Sam's demeanor had said it all. He'd buried Dean for good. A hunter's burial. A final goodbye. How had she let this happen? What if she wasn't really here when she was with Dean? What if her actions weren't really hers at all? How could they be?

She wouldn't have let Sam bury Dean for good. Would she have?

She slammed out of the bedroom and tore down the stairs. Sam didn't follow her. Time was moving too fast. She'd just shut her eyes for a second in the impala next to Dean. Now it who knows how long later and Dean was gone forever.

Forgiving Sam was impossible. Dean was out there on the other side of her reality war, collecting hope like it was going out of style, and here Sam was giving up? It didn't make sense. This had to be the wrong world. This had to be the fake one.

Bobby rested casually behind his desk as she made her way down the stairs two at a time. His head snapped up to meet her retreating frame.

"Going somewhere?" he grunted. The sound of his voice soothed a small part of her fury.

She froze in the kitchen at the base of the steps. Her breath caught up to her quickly. "You let him bury Dean?" It was a question but it didn't feel like one when she said it.

Bobby took a swig of his flask. His eyes held a weight she'd often seen lurking in their depths. "It wasn't my choice. But I agreed with it. Those boys are closer to death every damned day than you will know. They've seen the worse and hoped for the best. They knew this day would come sooner rather than later."

He pushed away from his chair. She watched him round the desk with heavy feet.

"It wasn't his time." She argued.

"How do you know that? Who are you to choose between the moment he was meant for and the one just before it?" Bobby's head swiveled quietly for a second. "Those boys deserve a heck of a better hand than the ones they were dealt, but they need to know when to accept the right cards. I thought you were the right card for Sam at the time. Told Dean as much once."

His eyes narrowed on her for a moment and Buffy's heart plummeted under the scrutiny as he continued, "But now I don't know what I see. You helped him once, waded through a sea of lost souls for Dean. But what will you do now? Tear through Heaven for a chance to do to him what was once done to you? You leave that boy where he belongs. He's at rest now."

Buffy's tears ran burning trails down her cheeks. Bobby was the voice of so much reason. The one she'd never allowed in her own torn down mind. She loved him like she loved Giles. He was a watcher, a seer, a hunter. He saw into the brother's hearts and souls with an authority only time and experience could award him.

Did she have that as well? Could she fight this? How, when Dean's body was beyond gone?

Where was her sense of reason in all this? And did it even exist in this reality?

She closed her eyes around the blur and for a second opened them to an afternoon sun. One quick image of the impala's dashboard, the road stretching on ahead of them stuck in her mind's eye. She blinked away the fragments, refocusing on Bobby's figure across the way.

"Where?" she begged, all the fight gone from her now.

Sam appeared on the steps. His face set in a stern mask. "I'll take you." His tone held a strange lilt. Buffy knew he wasn't accepting what was happening to her. He couldn't. He'd just lost his brother, he wasn't ready to lose her too.

If anything they must've just come from burying him earlier tonight. So Bobby's look of wariness matched Sam's over the reliving of the day. In part she knew Sam must've told him some of what she'd confessed to the brothers about her nightmare's coming to life.

The rest he seemed to be grasping for himself. He eyed her intently as Sam grabbed for the keys to the impala on the table. Bobby stood his ground before the desk, nursing his flask with extra care.

Buffy ignored his gaze all the way out the door. Sam's silence was something she usually reveled in. Tonight it was strained. It fought to undo her. She hurt him openly now, her words, her actions, her doubts. Yet she couldn't stop herself.

She wanted to be with Dean right now. Needed it. Whether it was six feet under or in a dream. She hadn't been able to say goodbye. Her closure wasn't one she remembered. It was something Sam couldn't understand right now, because for him, she'd probably already said goodbye tonight. But she needed it as if for the first time, because for her, it was.

If anything, no matter how fresh the pain of it all, he'd had the closure he could only accuse her of gaining with Dawn. He couldn't understand how she still sought hers for Dean.

The last thing she remembered seeing was his bloodied body back in Texas. That could've been several sunsets ago for all she knew. But it probably was only yesterday. And for her, it was only a couple blinks back.

Sam would have to understand, he had nothing left in her if she didn't say her goodbyes for real. Because if this happened to be the true reality they'd both be broken.

The ride to where Sam and Bobby had burned and buried Dean was a short one. They'd kept him close to Bobby's house.

Sam clicked off the engine and nestled back into the driver's seat. "He's there." His head bobbed at a wooden cross off the beaten path, one not unlike the first grave marker he'd given Dean.

Buffy forced herself to seek out Sam's eyes. The result was a mistake. The pain she saw there threatened to drown her. He _didn't_ understand. Maybe he never would. The longer she stayed trapped in these opposing realities the harder it would be to erase the mistakes she was making.

But she needed to be selfish right now.

His eyes held a flicker of something dark and he looked away from her.

"I'm sorry Sam." She turned to get out and his fingers trapped her arm for a second. When their eyes met again his were angry.

"Don't apologize to me." He started. "I get it. You think I don't but I do. You loved him too."

When she nodded he continued, "What I don't get is how this whole time you've been telling me to hold it together, to fight off the remnants of Hell and stay with you, but the second I ask the same of you it seems like an impossible thing."

Buffy's blood turned to ice in her veins. He was right. What she'd so easily asked of him she couldn't give in return.

It'd been only a few months since Sam's return from the pit yet to him it must've seemed like a lifetime. Images of what he'd endured still haunted him. The beast inside clawed at his gut begging to be freed.

Is this what it was like for him? Not knowing what he saw was real, not understanding the where of his surroundings? She'd been that rock for him, pushing, pushing him to give up on the other world he saw.

Yet when he asked it of her she'd failed to even try. A part of her wanted the other world more. It held strength, it held possibility, it held a world where Dean Winchester still breathed.

But how could she even think of giving up a world where Sam was mere inches away? Hope was slipping through her hands here. Was that really the bottom line of all this?

Her small hands shook as they reached for his massive ones. He turned her fingers over and traced invisible patterns over her palms. They both watched the lines as if entranced.

When he spoke again his voice was low, "I love you so much...but I need you more than I've ever needed anything. When you shut me out I don't know what to do to get to you. It's like you aren't in there anymore and nothing I can say reaches you. It scares me."

"I'm right here Sam. In this moment, I'm right here. I can't promise you the next because I don't know where it will lead me, but this one is all yours."

Instantly they were in each others arms. His arms dwarfed her, swallowing her whole. She nestled into them. His scent was strong; pine, fire and whiskey. It was one part Sam, two parts Dean. She breathed him in not caring that for a second she let herself imagine he was someone else.

When they parted Buffy saw the stress bleed from his features. He winced at an invisible image before her and she smoothed the frown lines from his forehead. She watched as he fought the other world he now existed in. Fascination mixed with dread over his struggles.

She understood them now. It was all too real what he saw. His scars were a living thing.

He nodded once after the vision had passed.

"Gone." She confirmed. "You can't expect this to just go away Sam. You've been _him_ longer than you've been you." She referenced the beast they'd all been a part of once and Sam nodded again in understanding.

His hands slid away from her with some reluctance. "I could say the same for you. I don't know what has you, but I won't lose you too. I'll find a way to stop it. Just promise me you'll fight to stay with me. I need you."

The promise was something she never could've given the real Sam Winchester. She loved him too much to lie to him about something like that.

But this reality had threads in it. The stitching of a made-up world was showing. So when Sam urged again for a promise to fight and stay in this world, she readily gave it to him.

It wasn't really lying when it was to an alternate version of yourself in a false world. _Was it?_


	6. Six Feet Under

Buffy placed the flowers on Dean's invisible headstone. The ones she'd collected along the small path to where his wooden cross rested.

Night claimed her figure, allowing a dark privacy to swallow her. Sam had left her long ago, she'd insisted on it. His face had fallen at the odd request to be alone for this, but he'd consented.

She'd stood for what seemed like a lifetime after the impala disappeared back towards Bobby's house. The dirt road behind her was an untraveled one, not on any map Bobby had ever seen. The farmers who used to own this land gave it up years ago when their crops failed. Only weeds grew here now.

Buffy eyed the beautiful weeds against the backdrop of brown earth at her feet. They were the perfect thing to honor Dean. Something that never stopped coming no matter how many times you beat it back. The colors were dull in the darkness of the night but she knew they would shine bright with the oncoming day.

Her shaky hands deposited a handful of soil onto the freshly packed dirt before her feet.

Dean was down there. Or what was left of him. Coping seemed foolish at the moment.

She allowed the horrible retching to start and didn't even try to abate it.

This world probably wasn't real, so why not risk Dean's heavenly wrath in it?

Truth spilled from her lips in her despair, "I told you once I didn't save you out of the goodness of my heart. That I'd only taken you from the pit for Sam." Her sorrow washed over her slowly, salting the wounds he'd left behind. "You deserve to know, even if it's too late, that that was a lie. The second I saw you down there, bruised and broken, I _knew_ I couldn't leave you. I didn't quite know why, but I knew I had to save you."

A sprinkle of rain started, adding a chill to air. She leaned into the wind, catching the scents of smoke left behind from Dean's burial hours ago.

She dredged up the strength to continue, "A part of me loved you even then. But I was too afraid to admit it..." her voice wavered for a second, "Because if I allowed myself to love the man who'd killed my sister what did that make me? I _had_ to hate you, _had_ to push you away. It made everything easier."

She fell to her knees, the wet earth encasing her jean-clad knees, sucking her down into the dirt. Her tears fell fast, her gross sobs filling the night air.

"Oh God Dean, _please,_ please don't ever forgive me. _Hate me._ I did this to you. I sent you off to look out for Sam."

Real or not real, the wounds of the past opened up all the same. The rain came down faster and each drop seemed to beat at her face like a punishment. She imagined it was Dean, berating her for even showing him this weakness.

She didn't care. She needed this moment. It was her goodbye. It was her confession. If nothing else she deserved to clear the air for herself.

Even this fake version of herself.

It boded well for her that this all probably wasn't real, that she could free herself of these feelings and wake up tomorrow without it ever having happened.

She looked forward to that moment.

But until then, here was where she belonged. Because like it or not, real or pretend, her heart was six feet under right now, and she was terrified if she gave up on getting back to the other reality that that is where it would stay.

* * *

When Sam entered the house Bobby was back at battling his bottle of whiskey. By now it was nearly defeated. Sam slumped over the nearest chair to help.

"She made you leave her there didn't she?" Bobby's question stung Sam.

"Yes."

Bobby sighed. "She's not good for you, Sam. Not anymore. Too much has happened."

Sam could only grit his teeth against a retort. He wanted to believe in Buffy, a part of him _had_ to. Yet he felt like she was forever out of reach and it scared him shitless.

Where was the bright, bantering version of Buffy who threw him to the vampires and mocked his fighting style? She seemed lost now. So very lost. Yes a lot had torn them apart in the past year, but Buffy was always the glue holding them together.

She'd helped him find Dean in a labyrinth of forgotten souls. She'd coaxed him back from the brink when he'd lost himself to the beast within. She was this worlds savior and so much more.

Wasn't it his turn now to find her? Didn't he owe her that much?

Bobby sipped at his freshly poured drink. The glass shook in his hand. "Sam I know you don't want to hear this. But a girl that like doesn't belong in our world."

"What are you talking about, she's already _in_ our world Bobby."

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Bobby sank a bit into his chair. "I care for Buffy, I do, and I respect Giles for all he's done for us. But that girl is moving sideways in a world where the rest of us can only go forward. She loves you, I see it in everything she does. But she doesn't belong to you and I don't think she ever will."

Sam's face paled at his words. It was his darkest fears and somehow they were so clear to everyone else even Bobby saw them, and Bobby had only seen Buffy a handful of times.

Bobby swallowed the last of the brown liquid in his glass and rambled on, "She is a bit of a wonder though. Packs a mighty punch for such a tiny package. She has a tongue on her too. If I wasn't so angry at her for twisting you up and making you rather useless, I'd admire her."

Sam's mouth set in a firm line for a moment. "I am _not_ useless."

"You think she gives you this strength you never had. I see that clearly enough. But can you see all the weaknesses she has infected you with too? You are distracted more often than not. You won't listen to my suggestions. You go running off half-cocked like the fight is just another bump on the road to where she is. It will get you killed one day. One day too soon."

The harshness of his words held a tinge of remorse, but it was too late. Sam felt the underlying accusations. Bobby had wanted the brother's to call Buffy, and they had, but Sam was distracted when she was around. He wasted his energy on chasing her and that feeling she once instilled in him.

The feeling that once ran so high he thought he'd never come down from it.

The feeling that was long gone now. Buried by a mass of pain and sorrow. And the distraction that feeling caused had gotten Dean killed.

He was back where he started before she'd burst through that window to save him. Only now he had a broken heart as well. Dean was gone, the one person who could put him back together again with ease. And Buffy was off being led about by her own demons.

He was alone. He was always alone.

He eyed Bobby across his desk and the old man's eyes held a glint of something Sam hadn't ever seen before. Not from the steadfast Bobby Singer. It was a tear. It didn't fall, and it was blinked back before Sam could second guess it's existence. But he'd seen it there.

"I need to let her go, don't I?" he sighed.

Bobby started to shake his head but it was just a formality. "I think you do son. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry we couldn't do anything more for Dean."

Sam bit at his lips in frustration. "I know." He pushed away from his chair and headed back to the front door, intent on retrieving Buffy from Dean's grave site.

He paused in the door frame at Bobby's words, "You know you always have a place here. Don't be a stranger. You are my family too Sam, always have been, always will be."

One last look and Sam was off into the dawning day. The sun rose gently over the trees of Singer Salvage Yard, giving it an eerie feeling. It suited the place. It was a revolving door of lost souls and broken hunters.

Sam was glad for Bobby's advice, no matter how unwelcome it seemed. He'd lost many things but he knew without a doubt he would always have that side of Bobby to turn to.

He had the rest of his life to heal from the events of yesterday. He just had to make it through today first.


	7. The How

Buffy jolted awake. Adrenaline pushed its way through her veins like fire. Her heart picked up and suddenly her sense were on cue. Willow and Xander loomed over her, worry in their eyes.

"Welcome back sleeping beauty!" Xander called to her as if she were hard of hearing.

Buffy frowned at her surroundings. She was still at Bobby's house. Dean lounged in the doorway and with one last glance retreated out into the hall disappearing from sight.

"What's going on?" she asked, her head cocking to view his departure better.

The last thing she remembered was falling asleep to the rising sun beside a restless Sam. He'd collected her from Dean's grave and took her home to wash up.

Not even two words passed between them, their heads hitting the pillow and sleep coming for them a second later.

Willow's hands wrung together in a rare gesture of worry. "Dean called us. You fell asleep yesterday morning on the car ride here and wouldn't wake up. Bobby conferenced in Giles and they tried everything to wake you but nothing worked. You've been in a dream-like state for almost twenty-four hours."

Buffy's tongue suddenly felt dry. "I don't understand. I wouldn't wake up?"

Xander's voice held a tinge of distress, "Gave us the good ol' fashioned Buffy's–probably-not-gonna-wake-up scare alright. I think those are a bit overdone by now though. Can we change acts for a bit? Cause you look cute when you're sleeping but enough's enough."

Buffy glared at Xander. He glared right back.

"So how am I awake now?" she asked, confused.

Willow moved off the edge of Buffy's bed an answer on her lips, "I had to use a spell. Don't be surprised if you don't sleep again for a solid day or two. The after effects might cause some insomnia."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Great, who needs all that pesky rest anyway right?"

Xander gave her a half-grin. "Well an eyes-wide-shut Buffy is no Buffy at all. Dean said you were throwing a fit in your sleep too. Crying out, thrashing around, the works." He suddenly got serious, his voice deepening. "Also that you've been having vision-like dreams that feel real. Care to share your woes with the rest of the team?"

She sighed as Xander settled back against the furthest wall. "I don't know Xander. It's like I'm going crazy or something. At first I thought it was just a dream, nothing more. But now it feels more like another reality altogether."

Willow frowned. "What happens when you're there?"

"Pretty much the same things that happen here. Only...it's like in each reality some small differences drastically change the outcome of important things." She swallowed around the lump threatening her. "Over there, Sam is still alive."

Xander and Willow shared a look. One that spoke volumes.

Buffy followed their lead, "You think I'm out of it don't you?"

Willow's hands reached for Buffy's own, covering them gently. "Hey, _no._ We don't know what is happening. It doesn't sound like anything I've ever heard of before, but that doesn't mean you're going crazy. There is a lot of powerful magic in the world that can alter reality, or even make it seem that way."

Xander pushed away from the wall, "I'll get Giles on it right away. I think we need whole-minded Buffy back right now." He left the room with an urgency Buffy appreciated.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Willow asked. Her voice held a tinge of sadness.

"I don't know," she started, uncomfortable with her own secretiveness, "I guess a part of me didn't want to accept either world at first."

"What do you mean?"

"In that other world, Sam is alive...but Dean isn't."

Dean appeared in the doorway with a grim look. "So I'm dead over there, in your little dream world?"

Buffy's gaze met his across the bedroom. She eyed his wrinkled jeans and red plaid shirt; the same outfit he'd had on the last time she saw him. From the looks of the dark circles under his eyes he hadn't slept the whole time she'd been out.

"Yes." She confessed.

He nodded, accepting it. His eyes moved to Willow and locked her down with a glare that spoke of important things. "Willow can I talk to you for a second?"

Buffy blanched. "Is this something I'm not allowed to hear? Cause I'd really prefer if you both didn't whisk off for your secret chats and pretend like I can't help because I'm a bit wack-a-doo right now."

Dean merely shrugged off Buffy's words. "Willow?"

Willow nodded solemnly and followed Dean into the hallway. She looked back at Buffy for a second, an apology in her eyes. "I'll be right back, just relax for a moment."

Buffy bit back a retort. They were treating her like she was suddenly made of glass. A girl goes dream walking into an alternate reality a few times and she gets the sympathy card from the eldest Winchester _and_ both her best friends.

No, _no way_. To Hell with them. She was back in the right universe, and she'd be damned if she just sat back and let them all fuss over her when they could be finding a way to save Sam.

A second later she was dressed in fresh clothes and sneaking off to the basement for a better look at what she was up against.

* * *

Willow spoke softly as not to involve the others, "I have no clue what is going on Dean. Like I said, I've never heard of anything like this before. Buffy's dreams are a mystery to us all. They are like a living entity. She has dreamed memories, realities, actual moments of the past and even seen into the future with them. We stopped questioning her ability to see into the truth of her own nightmares long ago. To her, these things are just...normal."

Dean moved away from the kitchen sink. He began a pacing only a days worth of worry could award him. "I couldn't wake her up Willow. That is _anything_ but normal."

Willow's chest moved on a silent sigh. "I know. And I will get to the bottom of it, but right now my magicks are a bit limited."

Dean eyed the red-head with intent. Her short locks swayed a bit with the motion of her head. He saw a deep fear in her that he hadn't been privy to before.

He knew from what Buffy and Sam had said the witch had lost her soul mate last year. The adorable blonde who'd been attached at her hip.

At the time Dean had been wrapped up in a hundred messes of his own. Now he found the time to mourn the lost scooby member a bit. He hadn't really gotten to know Tara, but he understood that kind of loss all the same.

Willow continued slowly, "After what happened, with me losing control, I can't risk losing it again like that. Not so soon. I won't be of any use to Buffy. Trust me."

He nodded. "I know, just, do what you can. I need her on board right now."

"I get that. But don't underestimate Buffy's ability to bounce back from things like this. She comes down hard and fast, but nothing keeps her down for long. Nothing ever does."

* * *

Buffy moved down the steps into Bobby's basement with a light foot. She sought out the safe room warded against demons, jarring the heavy door open with ease. The sound of metal scraping called to her attention and forced her to cringe.

"You really wanna do that?" Bobby asked softly from the shadows. Buffy whirled around at the intrusion. He lurked quietly just out of sight.

"I need to see him Bobby." She admitted.

He moved from the backside of the stairs slowly, coming into view. His baseball cap still shaded his eyes from her scrutiny.

His voice was solemn, "I knew you would."

"Have you been hiding down here hoping to stop me?"

"What if I have?"

"It won't work."

Bobby nodded sadly. "I figured as much, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn't try." The question was a rhetorical one. Buffy left it that way.

"You don't think he can be saved do you?" she asked, fear creeping into her tone.

"I don't think it matters if it's possible or not. That boy is gone, same as any hunter when his time is up. He deserves to be put to rest properly."

"It wasn't his time Bobby." She echoed her words from the other reality she'd spoken about Dean. Deja vu niggled at her.

"Wasn't it? He's dead after all." The words came out flat but Buffy saw past the façade. Bobby loved the brothers as they were is own sons. If he felt it was Sam's time, it must be because he really believed it with all his heart.

Above everything else, Buffy needed to understand _how_ he could feel that way.

"He's died before. So have I." She retorted.

"And that makes it alright to cheat death? To go on never accepting it? If that was true we'd all live forever. Sometimes it's just our fate to move on from this life. The when and how aren't for us to decide."

He inched closer and she relaxed visibly against the heavy door in her fists. Her voice caught on her next words, "_I can't..."_

His lips set in frown that was half worry, half hope. "I know. You and Dean are so much alike sometimes. You refuse to see things for what they are."

Buffy's brows rose. "And what are they really?"

"Just what they seem. This is Sam's end. It may not be fair, or even what he deserves, but it's the hand he was dealt. Let me ask you something; Why do you really want to bring Sam back?"

Buffy's mouth hung open at his question but he waved a hand at her requesting silence. When she set her jaw tight he continued, "If it's because you truly believe with all your heart that he isn't in a better place then I will help you get him back to his body. But if even for a second you can admit to yourself that you are doing it because you need him more than he needs to move on, then I can't let you inside that room. Sam didn't sell his soul. He isn't in Hell _or_ suffering. Dean wants his brother back for selfish reasons. Same as always, he can't function without him. He was raised around the concept of living and breathing so Sam could have a better life one day. Dean never needed anything for himself but to see his brother happy. Without Sam, Dean has lost his purpose. But you have purpose Buffy, you have it in spades. Can you honestly look inside yourself and see no other future without Sam?"

Buffy's mind flashed to the images she'd seen of herself and Sam in the future, the one's Lilith had shown her. That didn't exist anymore, not in this reality. Not if Sam stayed dead.

The images faded more and more each day. How could she abandon her hope for an uncertain future? If this truly was the reality she had to go on breathing in; could she give up Sam for a greater destiny?

She'd let Dawn go even when she thought she'd never have the strength to. In the dream world opposite this one Bobby had said something similar about Dean. Sam had listened to him then.

She couldn't see Dean giving in that easy on this side. The brother's were extremely different creatures. For once Buffy was beginning to see this clearly.

Bobby moved to the stairs in silence, his eyes cast downward. "I admire you Buffy. Your strength of will is something I haven't seen the likes of before. But you are on the verge of losing yourself to this. Don't let Sam's death be in vain. He wanted so many things for you. This regretful path isn't one of them."

With that he was gone. Buffy's cold hands fell to her sides. Bobby's opinion was always something she respected, yet she found herself doubting his reasoning now.

Maybe the pain was still too fresh from losing both brothers so close together. Maybe she couldn't accept a world where so much loss existed. Maybe she just missed her sister more than she let on, because no matter which world was real Dawnie was still gone.

Her heart was a battered mess. Her mind was a web of missing fragments. If she ever had a strength of will it seemed to be gone now. She didn't know what she wanted or what was right.

But if Bobby saw something in her capable of walking away from this moment with her sanity intact, maybe there was some hope left for her yet.


	8. Sam I Am?

Sam's arms tightened around Buffy's sleeping frame. He'd woken a couple hours ago, his body accustomed to not getting the rest it needed.

The afternoon sun beat at the old shades adorning Bobby's windows. Dust milled in the air, dancing on sun beams peeking through the cracked curtains.

Sam sighed. When he inhaled he clung to Buffy all the more. She smelled of fresh soap and linen. Her once wet hair now dried into a curling crumpled mass on the pillow beside his cheek.

He inched up on his elbow and gazed down at her. Her lips moved slowly as if talking to someone in her sleep. He wondered what world she was viewing right now. Should he leave her there or drag her back to him? He couldn't grasp at what would be more selfish. Because he knew he'd have to set her free eventually if he did wake her.

So these extra moments probably meant the last he could have of her, even if they weren't really with him.

They'd been a force in each others lives, their affection for each other almost something almost tangible. How he would find the strength to give her up he didn't know, but he knew it had to be done.

He stole a few more seconds of her this way. She nestled into his chest, turning to tuck herself beneath his tented arm. Her hair fanning out over the crook of his elbow.

His heart clenched at the trust she showed him. Yet it was a subconscious act; one she'd shelter from him if given the chance in her waking life.

Her pale pink lips frowned suddenly and he bent to kiss the worry from her mouth. Instantly she smiled in her sleep. His heart beat a rhythm against his ribs. _Gods she is beautiful._

He moved to kiss her eyelids as well and sprinkled a few on her nose and cheeks along the way.

He would miss this. Would miss just having her by his side. He wasn't sure he was ready for losing her for good.

He always thought it'd take so much more to turn him from her. Knew deep down part of him would always come back for more of the punishment she dealt.

He lived his life out on the road, she had hers back in Sunnydale. Time was just as much an enemy as location now though. When all was said and done, what did he truly have of her but a few memories?

It wasn't enough. He feared for himself without her. Yet he knew deep down Bobby was right. Buffy was lost lately. It was more than just these new worlds she seemed trapped in. Losing Dean had done things to her. Things he wasn't willing to read into right now.

She murmured again and this time he sensed a fear in her. A frown slid over his brow, knitting together the lines between his eyes.

"Buffy?" he called lightly, hoping she'd wake on her own so he didn't have to be the one robbing her of rest.

When she didn't open her eyes he called to her louder. Still nothing.

He shook her slender shoulder lightly. Her body rocked to and fro beneath his touch but her eyes remained sealed. Worry slid through him quickly.

"Buffy? Can you hear me?" he called, loud enough to wake the neighbors. Buffy frowned in her sleep but she slept on.

Fear jostled his heart about in his ribcage. _What is happening?_

Urgency made his grip tighten. He knew he'd leave behind finger shaped bruises on her skin but he couldn't find reason enough to care. _Why was she not waking up?_

He shot upward, taking her small body with him. In an instant she was nestled in his strong arms. Her weight was slight, her head bobbing beneath his left arm.

Racing for the stairs he took them two at a time. "Bobby!" he called, desperation casting his voice into weakness.

He laid her out on the couch downstairs as Bobby hobbled up from behind his desk. Weariness darkened the shadows beneath his eyes and his beard seemed too long for his usual style.

"What is it?" he asked, taking in Buffy's limp body.

Sam stood tall, his chest heaving with the effort to breath. "She won't wake up. I tried to rouse her, but she won't come to."

Bobby leaned over the girl, gently smacking her smooth skin here and there. His frown took flight, joining Sam's.

"How long as she been out?" Bobby asked, not grasping the situation properly. "Did she have a lot to drink or take anything before she went to sleep?"

Sam's head shook violently. "No, nothing that I saw." He glanced at the wall clock, surveying the current time. "We got back around six or so in the morning, so she's been out for about nine hours, give or take."

Sam's fists clenched over and over at his sides. Bobby fretted over her, trying his best to wake her and failing. "What is happening Bobby? Can you wake her or not?"

Bobby sat back on his heels. "I don't know. I'll call Giles and get Willow over here. If it's something supernatural, we need the big guns."

Sam bent over Buffy suddenly, his huge hands in her hair. "Buffy!" he urged, "Come on baby, wake up, please come back to me, _please._"

Suddenly his hands felt hot, his eyes blurring. He knew this feeling well, it often came for him. It was Hell knocking at his door. Fire licked at his face, burning his senses. He fought to gain control of his surroundings but failed.

The beast called for him. "No!" he screamed, not caring who heard him now. He'd fought before, harder than ever, for Buffy. But her concerned eyes were now shut, with little hope of them opening anytime soon.

He needed her, and she was gone. The vision clawed for his sanity, plucking at it's edges.

A second later he was against the wall, a force unlike any he'd ever felt propelling him into it. His body crumbled hitting the floor with a harsh thud. Fire was everywhere. His skin smoked, flames collecting before his corneas. He blinked on repeat, trying to free himself from the onslaught of visions.

"Buffy!" he screamed, forcing the idea of her to the forefront of his thoughts. He'd gone under a few times when Dean was alive, and many more with Buffy by his side, but never had he experienced one alone before. Not like this.

He screamed her name on repeat, trying to find her among the cold flames of Hell.

A second later he felt the reassurance of her fingers on his heated cheeks. "Sam!" she cried. "Come back Sam, I'm here now, I'm here."

Slowly the fire abated, being squelched by Buffy's words. A blink later and his vision was clear of the horrifying vision and Buffy's pale face swam before his.

She stroked his temples, tucking his brown locks behind his ears. "Sam?" she asked, afraid she'd lost him as he had her a moment ago.

"Buffy," he sighed, "What just happened?"

"I woke to you screaming for me. Are you alright?" Her hidden strength surfaced as she helped him to the couch. Bobby eyed them both with intent.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think I'm fine now."

He adjusted himself on the left side, his arms encircling Buffy as she sat next to him. When their eyes met, it awoke things they'd both been burying.

Bobby's voice broke into their spell a second later, "I think that's my cue to leave. Happy chatting kids."

He exited via the front door and Sam wondered for a moment where exactly Bobby intended on going. He was grateful for the privacy all the same.

His head swiveled to Buffy. "I thought I'd lost you." He admitted dumbly.

She cracked a crooked smile. "I could say the same for you. That was a bad one. You sure you're alright?"

He ignored her question. "You were asleep."

"People do that on occasion."

"I couldn't wake you."

"I'm awake now."

He reached for her. She let him. "You are." He breathed.

"I feel like I should be worried right now, with the way you are looking at me." She chastened him.

"Nope."

Her brows rose. "Nope?"

His face was in her neck a second later. She melted into his touch. "I just thought you weren't going to wake up. I called for you. You didn't hear me."

She pulled back. "Oh I heard you, loud and clear."

_She heard me._ His heart glowed even as it started to crack.

"Sometimes I think you don't even hear yourself." He said gravely. At her raised chin, he continued, "What happens now Buffy? Where is it you think you belong? Because if it's not with me tell me now. I need to know."

Her sigh was one of deep resignation. "I don't know anymore. My heart and soul are scattered, and it only seems to be getting worse. I know you don't want to hear about my dreams-"

"I never said that." He interrupted.

She steeled herself visibly. "You didn't have to. It shows. Dean's dead, realities are smashing about inside my brain. I feel like a broken cobweb, collecting fragments of dreams that just happen to float by and get stuck up there. Only the pieces I am getting don't make any sense. They don't make a whole picture."

Sam's heart faltered at her words. He wanted to protect her, needed to help her. But everything was too fresh. Hell was just under his fingernails and he was on the cliff's edge of true loneliness.

He wished for the millionth time in the past thirty-six hours that Dean was here.

When she embraced him suddenly he returned it, capturing her small frame as if she alone were designed to save him.

How could he let her go now? A part of her had left already, he was sure of it. Yet the part that was here on this couch, what he wouldn't do to keep it with him forever...

They were crutches, taking turns holding up the broken pieces of their minds for each other. It was unhealthy, it was wrong. Yet did it even matter? Bobby seemed to think it did.

Sam wanted to see their relationship clearly, but he couldn't. The few nights they'd actually spent together since his return from Hell and Dawn's demise had been wrought with pain.

He'd traced her scars while she smoothed his fears, wishing they could take the brunt of them for each other. They put band-aids over the space between them with voice mails. It was all empty of any real emotion.

He craved that now. Wanted desperately to have back the feelings they once invoked in each other. Maybe letting her go would show them the perspectives they couldn't see from this distance.

It was the initial letting go he lacked the strength to start.

He clung to Buffy, the feeling of her ribs against his own, their beating hearts slamming out a song of despair for what the next moment would bring.

Perhaps one more second?

When her lips found his, he set the mantra to memory. _One more second. Just one more.  
_

Her tongue slid across the seam of his lips and he opened to her, giving her all of him. Then demanding everything in return.

Instantly he was blind to doubts. _Yes, one more second here._

"Sam," she moaned against his mouth, and suddenly he was undone, his mind blank but for three little words.

_One... more... second..._


	9. The What (Part 1)

Giles eyed Anya slumped over an uncomfortably high pile of books. The obnoxious blonde's snoring drifted throughout Magic Shop. It was after hours and they'd been knee-deep in research for what seemed like forever.

Her mouth hung open and the rattling breaths of the deeply-at-peace pushed gently from her on repeat. Her arms hung at her sides awkwardly and her neck craned to the left at a strange angle.

Only Anya could make a position like that look comfortable at a time like this.

At least she was finally quiet. She hadn't shut up about being stuck with information detail since Xander and Willow took off for Bobby's.

The shop phone chimed loudly and Giles raced to grab it. Anya merely stirred at the sound.

"Yes? Hello?" he questioned the receiver.

"Giles? It's me." Willow's voice announced.

"Willow, thank goodness. How is she?"

"Not so good. I had to use a spell to wake her and it didn't last long. She's asleep again. Dropped like a sack of..." She paused for a breath, stuttering over the sentence, "S-something really heavy. I think Dean's on his last shred of sanity too."

Giles sighed. "Why do you say that?"

"He hasn't spoken since she went under again. Just sits there with her. Any good news on your end?"

Giles set to cleaning his glasses. A nervous habit. "I wish I could say yes. But we are running in circles. Planes of existence and different dimensions are tricky things. There is no way of telling exactly what is happening to Buffy until we know more from her."

"I tried talking to her earlier, but she's shutting down Giles. Between her and Dean, I don't have a whole team to work with here."

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose and returned his glasses to his face. "Okay, just get her awake again, we need to know exactly when this started and what's going on when she's asleep."

"I'll try my best, but that last spell should've acted like a massive dose of adrenaline. I didn't expect her to sleep again for a least a day. She barely lasted the afternoon. One second she was here, the next she just...wasn't."

"This isn't the time to be second guessing yourself Willow. Buffy needs you."

Silence stretched over the line and Giles could imagine Willow's reaction. She was still on the verge of learning her new earth magick. It scared her, as it should. Giles, however, saw things in Willow he'd never seen in any witch before. If anyone could bring Buffy back from wherever she went in her dreamworld, it was Willow.

"Okay," she consented a moment later. "I'll try my best to get answers out of her. I'll be in touch soon."

When they hung up Giles moved stiffly back to the table.

Anya had barely moved. His bones creaked under the stress of going into this never-ending night alone. It was always something. Rest was a luxury he couldn't afford. He'd sworn once to protect this dying world, and the best way to do that was to get Buffy back in the game.

He first needed to find what was pulling her away though. He wasn't going to lose his slayer to this. She'd been through too much to go out this way.

He tried to imagine what she was going through. When he'd lost Jenny the black hole that started in his chest never fully closed, even to this day.

If Sam was really gone, then maybe getting Buffy back from a reality where he still breathed was going to be harder than he thought.

* * *

Willow paced Bobby's kitchen. Xander eyed her nervous fretting. "You sure you're ready for this?"

"I've done it once before Xander. It was cake then."

"Yeah, and you had better control of your magic back then too."

Dean joined the two from the adjoining room, frowning at the exchange. "What the hell are you guys talking about?"

Xander stared at Dean with open contempt. "It's a dream walking spell. Willow's going to go into Buffy's head, see what she's up to in there."

Dean surveyed the fidgeting red-head. "And you need magic to do that? There are herbs that can do the same damned thing."

Willow merely shook her head.

Xander stepped in front of her, the gesture a protective one. "Willow can't use herbs. She can't use any..." he paused as if searching for the correct words, "Any magical _aids_ so to speak. She needs to do this the most pure way, for her sake and Buffy's."

Dean's face was rigid. He eyed Xander coldly. "What's that mean?"

When Xander remained silent he flinched at the realization that something could seriously go wrong. He backed a step away then advanced on Willow. "What's he mean by that?" he accused, his voice reaching a height Willow understood, but feared.

She tried to force the nerves from her voice. "There's a chance, even though it's a small one, that if I go in there, neither one of us will come back out."

Dean's expression thundered within the room. Willow couldn't look away from it.

"What you're telling me, is that I might be down three for three in this."

Willow understood Dean's expression and she tried not to cry. Buffy was her best friend. She was willing to lose herself to get her back, but somehow she didn't get how she equated into his realm of caring.

Dean _cared_ if she lost herself in this too? She'd known Sam had grown to love the scooby group in his own way, but she'd never quite gotten the stamp of approval from Dean.

"Yes." She answered softly.

Dean turned away, dragging a hand across his unshaven jaw. When he turned back all evidence of caring was gone from his face. "Do it then."

With that, he was gone, the back door swinging wildly in his wake.

Xander turned to her, whispering, "Don't let him get to you. You are the most incredible woman I've ever had the pleasure of being allowed to know. You and Buffy together in there? I have one word for you; _unstoppable._ Just come back to us soon okay? I don't know how many more hissy fits of his I can take solo."

Willow let a giggle escape her. She was still nervous, but Xander's belief in her always manifested into something corporeal when he spoke. She wondered if he understood just how important he was to all of them at times like these.

Without him she was sure the world would've ended a thousand times over. Perhaps even at her own hands.

Summoning the strength he instilled in her she laid her hands on Buffy's temples. Within seconds she was sucked into another place. The effect was something like falling, without the final impact.

She stumbled a bit before her heavy eyelids found the will to open.

Bobby's same old living room came to her senses and she frowned. "Xander?" she called into the open air. Night still existed here, same as it had before she'd reached into Buffy's mind. Yet the couch was void of Buffy's comatose figure.

And Xander was nowhere to be found.

She glanced about the living room again, noticing tiny changes she hadn't seen right off. The placement of a book or empty beer can, the drawn blinds let in the moonlight (whereas they had not a moment ago), and Bobby now lounged half asleep in a stupor behind his desk.

Willow frowned at the familiarity of it all. _This_ was where Buffy went to inside her mind? It wasn't much of an escape.

A sound from upstairs caught her attention. She took the stairs with a slow and steady pace. "Buffy?" she called into the empty hallway at the top. She adjusted her voice a notch louder and called out again.

This time she got a response. "Willow?"

Buffy launched out from the side guest bedroom. Willow blinked. "Buffy!"

The two embraced quickly, Buffy pulling away first, a question in her eyes. "What's going on Will? How'd you get here..." her thoughts trailed off as she frowned down at Willow's clothes. "Wait, isn't that the same outfit you just had on..."

Willow followed Buffy's train of thought. "I followed you here."

Buffy's eyes widened on Willow in surprise. "How?"

"Same way I did when we lost Dawn that day, and you left us for some place safer."

Willow selected her words carefully. They were ones she'd hope Buffy could understand on her own personal level. She'd done this often when pain seemed too much. Escaped into a world of her own making. But never this extreme...not since they'd lost Dawnie to Glory's grasp.

Sam appeared in the door frame and Willow tried not to visibly flinch.

When he spoke his voice was like a ghosts come to life. "Willow, is everything alright? Did Bobby call you?"

"No. I came from, er, Buffy can I talk to you alone a second?"

Buffy looked back at Sam and he nodded, a pensive look crossing between them.

Buffy followed Willow outside. The night air chilled them both as they took a seat inside the back garage in the salvage yard. The full moon seemed to light up the eerie property.

Buffy reached for the spotlight on the front door, switching it on.

Willow took in the senses around her. The cold from the slight breeze. The smell of motor oil and grease. The sounds of gravel beneath their boots. It all held so much detail. When she'd been in Buffy's mind before it was fraught with inconsistencies and falsehoods. Things Buffy had invented to comfort or torture herself.

Buffy looked at Willow with a nervous eye. "So, _how_ exactly did you get here?"

"I am beginning to wonder if how is the right question."

Buffy fidgeted across from Willow on the picnic table. "What do you mean?"

"Remember when we were in your head before? When Glory took Dawn?"

Buffy nodded. "Of course."

"Inside there, things were...off. Colors, sounds, smells, nothing was...awake. Details were sleeping, even though you were not. Kind of. But here, Buffy I've been here a couple moments and already it feels more real than where I've come from."

Buffy's eyes widened, but they held wonder, not fear. Like the two friends were somehow sharing an ages old secret.

"What is this place Buffy?" she asked softly.

"I don't know Will, it's what I was afraid to tell you. When I'm here, I feel like it _could_ be real, yet when I'm there, I have no doubt _there_ is real."

"This isn't good Buffy. I don't know what I did to get here, but now that I'm here we need to find a way to get you back. Dean's a bit on edge since you passed out."

"I passed out?"

"In mid-sentence too. Scared the crap out of us. One second you were there, the next you weren't."

Buffy cringed at the mental picture. "I don't get it. I don't even remember falling asleep. Just waking up...here."

"No way is this a dream." Willow looked around at Singer's Salvage Yard. It was exactly the way she remembered it, down to the last detail. "And we can't be inside your head, it's too-"

"-Real?" Buffy interjected.

Willow smiled a bit. "Buffy, I'm _so sorry._ I thought you were running away from what happened to-" she broke off not wanting to say Sam's name out loud, "I didn't know this was where you were."

Buffy's eyes glistened. Her hands reached across the table and grasped Willow's. "I know. And I know Sam's dead. But I swear to you the more time I spend here the more it convinces me to take another look around. This isn't the perfect escape Will, in some ways it's harder."

Willow nodded. In this reality, Dean was gone. Willow sensed a deep-seated fear from Buffy and skirted around it. "Where I came from, you were asleep. You have a body there. So how can you have a body here as well? Unless _here_ isn't real."

She was thinking aloud and Buffy joined in the debate with ease. "Earlier when I was asleep, Sam said I wouldn't wake up right away. Like I was in a coma or something. He seemed pretty freaked out about it."

Willow's lips pressed into a firm line before answering. "In my reality you wouldn't wake up either. We tried everything, so I came after you."

Silence yawned between the two friends. A thousand new unanswered questions stirring themselves into the mix of ones already in existence.

Buffy broke the quiet first, "So what world is real? And how can we find out?"

Willow started to shake her head but froze. A brilliant idea forging it's way through her frazzled thoughts. She retrieved her cell phone from her coat pocket and grinned wildly at the full signal bars.

Buffy's eyes locked on it in confusion. Willow's smile only grew as she said, "Let's call myself and ask."


	10. The What (Part 2)

Lucifer stood wrapped in the shadows. He surveyed Dawn's sister and her friend as they whispered across the old wooden table they crouched at.

Power rolled off the red-head in static waves. The air around her form charged undetectable by human eyes. Every color known to man glowed within her aura. It was like a living bubble, the reflective surfaces collecting light fragments and bouncing them to and fro. This was what the girl's soul looked like in it's rarest form, one only he could see. It was almost as beautiful as Dawn had been.

So much untapped strength. It called to him silently. The flame haired girl smiled suddenly and Lucifer's mind went blank for a second. She was an odd one. So serious, yet so playful. The colors surrounding her shifted suddenly, mixing with more yellow and greens.

He cocked his head at her actions, trying to understand exactly what she was.

A witch was his best guess, but he hadn't sensed one so strong before. It intrigued him. Maybe he should introduce himself? He looked down at his dying vessel and frowned. Maybe not.

The once handsome man's skin was starting to blister, if only slightly.

Lucifer's gaze moved back to the house. He sensed Sam inside. Too bad the youngest Winchester was currently an off-limits vessel. Or...inaccessible should he say.

A voice behind him interrupted his wayward thoughts. "What are you doing?"

Lucifer didn't turn around. He'd know that voice anywhere. His gaze moved back to the witch, refusing to face or acknowledge the invasion. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"Well forgive me if I worry. You aren't exactly the predictable type lately."

Lucifer sighed softly. He really wasn't. Helping to close the doors on his own home hadn't been an impulse move though. He'd had his whole wretched life to think over what he'd done after being cast out from Heaven.

Nothing could make him go back upstairs, it wasn't his endgame. But he had nothing left down below anymore either. Nothing but Dawn's essence to keep him company.

His vessels heart faltered for a beat and Lucifer frowned down at his dying body. Stupid thing always did that when he thought of Dawn. Why he couldn't understand.

"I'm not here to interfere with the plan. That's _all_ you need to know." He said, his voice reaching a level of authority he deemed appropriate.

He heard a shuffling behind him before silence once again befriended this moment. His eyes found the witch again. Her features twisted in confusion as she whispered into a cell phone planted at her ear.

Curiosity got the better of him. He folded into the shadows completely and listened in closer.

* * *

"Put it on speakerphone." Buffy urged. Willow did so and her own voice echoed back to her from the other line. It was like phone call freaky Friday. She'd seen herself as a vampire once, but never chatted up her alternate reality self on the line.

"So if you are who you say you are," the other Willow continued, "Then what am I wearing right now?"

Buffy and Willow frowned. Willow spoke up, "That makes no sense, I can tell you what _I'm_ wearing right now, but how do I know what _you_ are wearing?"

Scuffing sounds and then Xander's voice drifted across the line. "Will, just tell me who it is."

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you!" Her other self argued.

"Try me."

"I don't think I want to say..."

Xander's voice sounded confused as he asked, "Why not? What is going on? You are hiding down here asking some stranger on the phone to tell you what you are wearing. Who is on the other line?"

More scuffing. Willow's voice was a bit frantic as she seemed to be fighting Xander for control of the phone on the other end.

Willow and Buffy's eyes remained locked on each other in a rare form of shared amusement.

"I don't really sound like that do I?" Willow whispered across the picnic table.

Buffy shrugged as if to say; _So what if you do?_

Xander's voice came clearer now, he'd obviously won the small tussle over the phone. "Who is this?"

Willow shook her head at Buffy, afraid to say anything. Buffy chimed in, "Xander? It's Buffy."

"Buffy?" he asked, sounding relieved. "What the hell, is everything okay? Willow's down here in the basement hiding under the stairs half yelling strange questions at you."

Willow's voice called from the other line, "It's not Buffy! It sounded liked me a moment ago, it's a demon Xander, hang up on it!"

"Xander no, don't hang up." Willow called out.

A long sigh came from him on the other line. "Who is this?"

"Hang _up_ Xander!" the other Willow urged.

Buffy jumped into the mess being made. "Xander please, I know it sounds strange, but a lot has happened since I left there a couple days ago. Please just hear me out."

Silence. Willow raised her brows at Buffy. "I think he's nodding." she stated lightly. "Are you nodding Xander?"

Other Willow interrupted, "Did she say she thought you were nodding? Put it on speakerphone."

Xander spoke loudly, an echo tingeing his voice. "Okay Buffy, if you really are Buffy, explain away."

"Yeah, let's not go there. The real or not real game is not my favorite at the moment. I'm real, no matter where I exist."

Willow's frown deepened from across from the picnic table. "How do you figure? When you have bodies in both places."

Buffy addressed her best friend with some semblance of assurance, "I'm only as real as my memories allow me to be. So right here, right now, I have to go on as if I'm the real Buffy, no matter how many bodies I have out there in other realities."

Xander's frustrated voice lilted over the line. "Woah, woah, ladies, can we focus for a second. What the heck is going on here?"

Buffy answered first, "It started right after I left Sunnydale, or, right before. Okay I don't know when it started really, forget I said when it may or may not have started."

"-Buffy, _focus."_ He chided again.

Buffy frowned at herself before meeting Willow's gaze again. "Right, sorry. I've been a bit mixed up, on edge. In your version of what happened, Sam and Dean swung by to get me a couple days or so ago."

"Right, to clear a vamp nest." Xander confirmed.

"But before that, even before that, I was in another world, or...another alternate version of this world. I think it started in that world, but I can't be sure anymore."

"What are you saying Buffy?"

"Everytime I go to sleep, I wake up in a parallel place, where my life is taking drastically different paths. Only I can't tell which is the real world, or if both are anymore. In the one opposite this one, alternate Xander and Willow are trying to figure it out. I passed out a few hours ago, and Willow dream-walked into my head."

"And?"

"And now she's here with me too."

Xander's voice showed signs of worry as he said, "So what you are saying is, you are sitting there with a version of Willow _you_ think is real, and I'm standing here with a version _I'm_ sure is real."

Buffy's eyes cast doubt on the whole conversation. "I think what I'm saying is, I need help. How soon can you and your Willow get here?"

"It's a trap Xander, don't trust it." Willow's voice sounded fevered.

Buffy's version of Willow piped up, "What makes you so sure you are the version that's real?"

Willow back in Sunnydale stoked the fire, "What makes you? I _know_ I'm real. Xander, tell it I'm the one that's real."

Xander's voice of reason came through loud and clear, "Ladies, ladies, I think this could go on for more minutes than I care to be in attendance for. It's cold down here, I'm tired, and until we see this thing out for ourselves, the Willow on Willow fight can wait."

"How soon can you be here Xander?" Buffy said.

"After I round up Giles and Anya, because let's face it, he has the better car, we can be there by tomorrow evening. Or...is it past midnight already?" He phrased the question to alternate Willow and she replied with what must've been a nod. He continued with a sigh, "Today then, by tonight. One question though Buffy, because if I'm walking into a trap where this ends in all our deaths I'll never forgive myself."

"Anything."

"Good, cause if it didn't call for it, I feel like I'd have to put my apologies in order for asking this."

Buffy frowned. Willow returned the look. "Go for it Xander."

"Did Willow really ask herself what she was wearing? Cause if so, I need a better mental picture."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Xander..." she warned. "This is serious."

Other Willow half choked on her sentence, "I get a call from alternate universe me and you find a way to enjoy it. Leave it to Xander Harris to see the silver lining in us most likely walking into a trap. Impending doom? Har har."

Xander's voice held an air of defensiveness. "I blame you for leaving the movie marathon to take a call from yourself. Everyone knows when your voice mail starts ringing your cell to just hit the ignore button."

The sound of Willow's retreating steps echoed into the night. Buffy and Willow sighed.

"Xander..." Buffy started. "I'll see you tomorrow, er, tonight. Please hurry. Impending doom aside, I can't figure this out alone."

"One Xander, two Willow's, at your service."

After the call ended Willow and Buffy sat in silence for a moment, digesting what had just happened.

"She doesn't believe me." Willow stated solemnly.

"Your other self?" Buffy asked. Willow nodded. "Can you really blame her? Would you believe you calling you if you were her and she was you?"

Willow sighed at the complication to her plan. "I'd like to think I would."

Buffy yawned, the sound escaping her like a volcanic force. "Just keep me awake till they get here Will. Your my big gun right now."

"Coffee?" she suggested.

"Coffee." Buffy agreed.

"You know, I'm beginning to think calling myself wasn't the greatest idea. What if things don't work out? What if I attack myself?"

Buffy shrugged. "Just don't make me separate you two. I have the feeling I'm gonna need you both to get this sorted out."

Willow looked a bit confused. "I suppose if things go south in this I only have myself to blame."

Buffy locked arms with Willow on the way back to Bobby's house. "I'm going to remember you said that."


	11. Now You See Me

Sam watched Buffy and Willow at Bobby's kitchen table. The two were drinking coffee like it was going out of style. A small smile touched Buffy lips at something her best friend said. Jealousy fought for a place in his heart. He shouldered it out-of-the-way. Willow brought out a lightness in Buffy's countenance. He wished he had that ability. Maybe he did, once...but that time had passed.

The here and now was becoming a plague on both of them.

He wondered what they were talking about. Their heads bobbed together, and Buffy giggled for what seemed like the first time since Dean had died.

He didn't understand how she could be this coffee-binging, laughter-filled person when not long ago he'd been scraping her off Dean's grave. She compartmentalized with a strength he'd never seen before in another living being.

He shook his head and retreated to the guest bedroom. Distance did wonders for the perpetually confused. That and he'd hid Bobby's last bottle of bourbon up there earlier. Now was a good a time as any to top off the early morning hours with a nightcap.

* * *

Night came slow and Buffy wished for the millionth time that Willow had some of her old power. Getting the rest of the scooby gang here within the minute instead of within the day? It was priceless magick. Yet Willow, both Willow's, were still learning the new earth-based craft and a spell within a spell? Well, Willow feared the outcome.

When Buffy had asked, Willow had used the words, mind-explosion-no, it was mind _grenade_. Either way, she didn't want her memories going boom and having her real-deal-Buffy-self turning into a vegetable.

It was all one too many risks she wasn't willing to take. So they waited. And waited.

By the time Xander came through Bobby's front door even Sam was on edge. He'd spent the most of the day holed upstairs drinking himself into a stupor.

Buffy decided not to go up there. For him, here and now was all too real. She wasn't willing to share with the rest of the class just yet that she wasn't placing anymore bets on either reality.

Sam deserved more than her confusion. She was pleading the fifth until she had all the hard facts.

When Willow emerged from behind Giles a frustrated Anya gave her a small shove through the door. "Willow! Hurry up, these bags don't weigh nothing."

Willow eyed Xander, and he rushed to shut her up. "Anya, sweetie, we are all tired but let's practice our patience skills today okay?"

Anya pouted but apologized under her breath. Xander chucked her under the chin with a small smile. "That's my girl."

Giles, Xander, Willow and Anya formed a strange sort of front line in the living area. Buffy and Willow slowly crept forward to meet them, their feet planted a solid ten steps away in the kitchen.

The group's eyes were all on the duel Willow's. Willow gazed at herself and her counterpart did so as well. Both bore a sour look.

A full minute passed before Xander broke into the tension weaving through Bobby's house. "Is this a bad time to suggest a rousing game of battleship?"

Xander's Willow glared at him. Buffy's Willow smiled.

Xander looked back and forth between the two and gave a Hail Mary. "Destroyer B4?" The tension only mounted. He fretted and threw a look towards Buffy that cried for help. "I think this ships sinking slayer."

Buffy sighed. She couldn't show favoritism to either Willow, to her, they both were her best friend. She tossed herself into the newly arrived Willow's arms and the red-head broke at the waist, embracing her friend with revere.

When they parted she glanced back at her coffee-swilling version of Willow and gave a small gesture to break her frozen stance in the kitchen.

It was right about this time that Bobby made his way into the house from the salvage yard. He slowly made eye contact with Sam, a statue on the stairs, then Buffy, half-holding one Willow. His line of vision stopped abruptly on the second Willow and his eyes widened. "Ah balls. I think I forgot a thing or two out back."

He moved off back out the door, inching his eyes up to Sam perched on the steps. His gruff voice was more of a command than a question, "Help me out Sam?"

Sam took the out handed to him and the two vanished out the back door. The scooby gang watched it all with curious eyes.

"I think we scared them off." Buffy's Willow said in an amused tone. She met her other version's eyes over the small expanse between them. It was strangely affectionate the smile that passed between them. Like the satisfaction you share with yourself in the mirror sometimes.

"I don't see why." Willow countered.

"I must agree. I thought he liked me-us...we?" Willow's brow furrowed and Xander grinned.

Giles interrupted the calm with a question, "If you say you came from a world where Buffy is in a coma are you of the opinion that we are not real?" His question was aimed at Buffy's version of Willow, but when she opened her mouth to answer it was _his_ Willow that answered.

"No, or else they wouldn't have called us. Right?"

Willow nodded at herself. "From the moment I arrived things have felt real, as if the old life was a dream. The longer I stay, the harder it is to retain memories of the other reality. It's like a dream I left behind. Only, I know it's not."

Her counterparts eyes drilled into her own and the two held a solemn stance. The gang observed its rare energy, awaiting the final answer.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Willow asked herself.

"I think I am."

"Well if you think anything like I think then you are thinking what I have been thinking."

"Ready?"

"Ready."

Willow nodded and Willow nodded in returned.

The two stepped closer to each other and Xander held up a hand. "Wait now, what is happening?"

Buffy's Willow spoke up, "If we can touch," she gestured between herself and Willow, "it will prove this reality real. Alternate dimensions have a profound effect on each other."

The other Willow continued, "Rifts are created by anomalies like this, but first things first, and that's the question of whose reality is real. If both are real, we will continue to exist as we are. If one if false, there will be a..._reaction._"

Anya's head shot up. "As in, we might all-go-boom reaction?"

Xander wagged a finger at both Willow's. "That's not an option is it? I mean-is it?"

They replied in unison. "No. Yes. _Maybe._"

Buffy started. "Uh, is this something we should step outside for...or?"

Willow locked eyes with herself and suddenly it became clear to everyone. This was the simplest test and the fastest.

Xander's Willow bit her lip in hesitation. "If you try anything..."

"I think we both know I'd never hurt myself."

Willow's expression darkened. "I think we both know that's not true."

She shrugged. "Come what may."

"Let's do this thing."

A second before their fingers touched Buffy fell to the floor in a vacant heap. When their fingers _did_ touch, her version of Willow followed.

A second later chaos erupted.


	12. Now You Don't

Willow watched in horror as Buffy and her version of Willow hit the floor with a thud. Buffy's neck cracked on impact, the sound sickening her to the core. Suddenly flames licked up Willow's arms, heat scorching her flesh. The manifestation was her own and she knew it, but she couldn't get it under control.

Her screams filled the air as Giles and Xander rushed to put her out. Willow threw her arms into the blanket Xander smothered her with, trembling. He drew back gingerly eyeing the red burn marks on her skin.

"Will?" he called to her. She tried to focus on his lips but the sounds weren't coming to her. She clutched at her ears in fear, the pain on her arms forgotten.

Her eyes widened as she swiftly took count of the unfolding scene around her. Buffy and Willow were out cold in an awkward pile on the floor, Giles crouched above Buffy, lightly checking her vitals.

No sound filled the world around her. Stark quiet rushed into her eardrums, taking with it any hope for clarity. She was deaf.

Anya and Xander's lips moved at a rapid fire pace and Willow struggled to keep up with what was happening. Xander's touch gentled on her arms and face as he came to the realization that she wasn't just in shock, she really couldn't hear them.

Suddenly Bobby and Sam burst into the living room, taking into count the scene before them. Sam flew to Buffy's tiny frame twisted strangely on the floor. His eyes were wild and his lips formed her name over and over. Willow's vision dotted before her eyes, threads of black fighting for the forefront.

She wavered, clinging to Xander. He adjusted his hold on her, avoiding the burns on her arms she barely felt now. Pain sifted away from her as her sight inked out completely. She felt nothing now. Touch existed in a place beyond her. Her skin was heavy, her bones cementing. No sounds came to her in the darkness that now swallowed her whole.

She was trapped like that, thoughts assuaging her last bit of sanity to give in. She complied, letting it take her into oblivion.

Her senses were gone, everything a void. A vast black hole.

Yet unfortunately for her, her mind was wide awake, roaring through every possibility.

She was alive. Trapped in a darkness of her own making. Linked to a version of herself that was most definitely real. This was what the other Willow was experiencing. This was what the other Willow was feeling. And now somehow they were linked. Both forced to live out the same timeline inside two opposing bodies. Alternate universes be damned. This was all real. Too real.

But now they had an answer she would never be able to share. Because she was sure at this point she was no longer a body, but a mind, lost to a universe that governed by a set of its own laws she couldn't begin to fathom.

* * *

Lucifer couldn't help himself from interfering. When he dissolved into the stuffy little room Sam's rage exploded. His wild eyes set onto Lucifer with a thousand accusations. He didn't set forth a single one, merely attacked with a vengeance only time could strengthen.

His fists collided with Lucifer's jaw, once…twice. Lucifer let it go on a second too long before snapping his fingers and setting Sam back from him with an invisible force.

"Enough!" he called.

"You!" Sam spat at him, anger vibrating through the house.

Lucifer pitched a crooked smile onto him. It was mixed with a strange form of pity. He looked down at the two red-heads on the floor. When he moved towards the Willow's Xander made a noise in his throat that said stay away. Lucifer ignored him.

"I don't have, nor do I wish to have the time to explain. But I am not here to make matters worse. I want to help."

Giles pushed upward from Buffy's sleeping figure and held Lucifer's gaze with a trained calmness. "Why? What part do you have to play in all this?"

Lucifer smiled brightly. "Well, none. Not yet anyway."

Sam grit his teeth and struggled against the imaginary embrace that held him in place. "If you so much as touch her I _will_ kill you, I swear it."

Lucifer laughed. The ant was making those damned threats again, even after he'd saved its life. And the whole world for that matter. "Now what makes you think I came for Buffy? Or that I care one bit what happens to her?"

Sam frowned. Now the insect was confused? Couldn't the worthless human fathom anything beyond himself?

Lucifer moved closer to both Willow's on the floor, eyeing both creatures with intent. Giles shifted to stand in front of them both. "You won't be touching them."

Lucifer made a steeple of his forefingers and pressed them in thought to his lips. "I think you will find that you wouldn't be able to stop me if I tried. But my dilemma here stems from a place I'm not usually familiar with."

"And what would that be?" Xander asked.

"If I wanted to tell you, you'd already know. Just believe me when I say I don't want to have to hurt you all, but I will if you try and stop me. I made a promise long ago to someone, and I intend to keep it." His gaze slid to Sam. "So you don't have to fear for your precious slayers life, I won't harm her. But I never made such a promise about the rest of you. So cease your defensive behaviors, it's ridiculous and uncalled for."

Anya moved off further into the kitchen with wide eyes, putting her a good foot behind even Bobby himself. Lucifer thought he caught her whispering to Bobby about not liking being scolded like a child but he ignored it. The ex-demon once had a power to covet. But just like the rest of the blackened souls here she was a damned creature, not worthy of even acknowledging.

"What are you doing here then?" Giles questioned in a forced breath.

Lucifer sighed at the sight of both Willow's on the floor. He knew why this was happening, just never expected it to. Willow was slowly becoming a great power this Earth had never seen the likes of. He wondered if one day she would rival his own power. He longed to find out.

Her aura had faded to a dull gray and he was confused as to why that pained him.

"I want to help..._her._" He said solemnly, his gaze never leaving Willow's face.

Giles followed his eye line and frowned. A rare understanding seemed to pass between them when Lucifer stepped forward again, and this time Giles didn't do anything to stop him.

Lucifer's fingers itched to touch the girls freckles and skin. He wanted to see inside her mind. To learn of her fears and witness her powers for himself.

He hadn't quite felt this way since…well, since Dawn had sealed herself away at the gates of Hell. His vessel's heart jumped at the memory.

"I won't stand here and explain my actions to you." His eyes roved over Willow's jean clad legs and her alternate versions bare ankles peeking out from her floor length skirt. Two of them, wonders never cease. It would be a shame to set them right but until he did they'd never awaken. "Just know I wish to do the girl no harm."

Xander wouldn't relent so easily. "How do we know this isn't a trick?"

Lucifer's rage bubbled over. "Look at me fool, I'm dying! Would you spend your last days trying to trick inanimate objects into thinking they are real?"

Sam's frown lines showed. Bobby's mouth moved but no sound came out. Anya cowered even more. Only Xander and Giles stood their ground.

Giles' tone was low and rough. "Are you suggesting that we are not real?"

Lucifer's anger eased off. "On the contrary, I am suggesting that nothing is as real as it could be. So stop being the wooden puppets you were created to be and start questioning _everything._" He swiftly crouched and touched both versions of Willow on the forehead. Instantly they snapped like a rubber band into one body. Buffy's Willow seemingly disappearing from this reality. "Before it's too late."

An instant later he was gone, leaving the gang behind a bit better off for it. If only they would realize he wasn't their enemy. Yet humans were suspicious by nature. He knew he would always be damned for the day he had fallen, no matter how many thousands of years ago that was.

When he appeared again in the ether; a realm adjacent to this one, he was joined by one of his brothers.

"You shouldn't have done that." His brother accused harshly. "She knows too much."

Lucifer locked eyes with the angel who once was so much a part of his heart. "If she does it's your own fault for underestimating them."

"You promised you wouldn't interfere!" His brother shouted, rage filling his tone.

Lucifer's eyes held no emotion. "I said no such thing."

"You said you _weren't_ going to interfere."

Lucifer's brows rose at the anger rolling off his little brother. He'd rarely seen this side of him before. It intrigued him to say the least. "Yes brother, I did say that. But then again," he paused, a small smirk painted across his vessels dying features, "I didn't make any promises, now did I?"


	13. The Cursed Number

Dean's mind was in riot mode. First Sam, now Buffy _and_ Willow. The girls were out cold, and it'd been longer than he could stand. Xander had thrown a weary look his way on occasion but the boys had remained in almost silence for the past several hours.

When Dean's fist found the wall and melted into it with a vibrant force Xander finally kicked off from his chair. His scowl was fierce, a side of himself he didn't show off to the world very often Dean guessed.

"Alright enough!" he shouted. The boys stood at an awkward stance like that for a moment. Dean tried to absorb the moment they were on the cusp of. Would Xander really stand up to Dean? He found himself almost craving it.

When he withdrew from the wall slowly Xander visibly relaxed. "Dean, I know you think you have her pegged. You've seen her at her worst, fought alongside her in Hell. But for every fight you two have shared I've been through three. No I'm not some fancy hunter, no I don't wield a set of superhuman powers, but I have been there on the front lines of every war we've fought for this world. I _know_ Buffy and Willow, like you never will, and I have no doubt they will come back to us. I've seen them go up against forces unlike anything you could even fathom and come out on top. There is no way in _Hell_ they aren't coming back from this. There just isn't."

Dean smirked. "Maybe you do have a super human power," Dean moved to hover over Buffy like he had a million times in the last few hours, "Because I can't seem to find that shred of hope that comes so easy to you all."

Xander remained silent. His eyes wavering from Dean to the girls. "Being the perpetual optimist is a more like a curse. Everyone around me has magick, strength, knowledge. They've lived a thousand lifetimes or seen the other side, I have nothing to offer but the one thing that's so much a curse they will never understand it."

Dean wet his lips nervously. Xander's words were a powerful aspect to the otherwise unarmed man. He wielded them like a sword, cutting swathes through the darkness surrounding them. Dean wondered if he truly understood what he did for them all at times like these.

"Do you really believe they will come back?" He prodded again, needing to hear it one last time.

Xander's eyes never blinked. "There is no doubt in my mind."

An instant later Buffy shot awake, sucking air into her lungs with a volcanic force. Dean and Xander's heads swiveled to her struggling for breath. A second after that they were by her side, helping her sit up. Her wild eyes found Dean's and widened in surprise. He sought to understand her confusion and faltered. What had she just seen? Where had she been?

"Buffy!" Xander called out as if she was a great distance away.

She frowned up at him, her lips taking on a perpetual pout. "I can hear you Xander,_ argh,_ don't shout, my head is pounding."

He placed a gentle arm around her and grasped her tightly. Dean watched the relief flood into her features as she clung back to him. He struggled for control of his protectiveness over her. Xander was allowed to be concerned too, he loved her too, after all.

When the two finally parted Dean used the opening to put a hand in. He rested it softly on Buffy's back, trying to gather her attention without actually having to speak. Her head swiveled to meet his and he tried not to cringe at the glisten of tears he found in her eyes. She was still lost. Still confused. He wondered if now was the time to push her for the answers they all craved.

"Are you okay?" he asked lightly.

"Yes." She croaked. "Can I have some water?"

Xander patted her thigh and retreated out the door calling, "I'll get you some, be right back."

Dean tensed at being alone with Buffy. He had wanted that slayer side to hold them all up and out of this looming depression, but feared she was in hiding. He tried a small grin on for size and Buffy's brows drew together at the strange expression.

"Are _you_ alright?" she prodded.

Dean's hand slid off Buffy's back as she stood. Her gaze was set on Willow so he ignored her question in favor of his own. "Where did you go Buffy?"

"I don't know." Her fingers trailed over Willow's sleeping eyelids. "But we were there together. She came after me, wherever we were, it was real."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know what I'm saying. But I can't discount how I _feel_ anymore either."

"And how is that?" Dean asked gently.

Her eyes collided with his and his heart picked up at the emotion he saw there.

Xander's intrusive entrance broke the silence suddenly. "Got some Tylenol for you too." He strided over to Buffy and handed off the water and pills. She downed them quickly.

"Thanks, Xander."

He smiled brightly. "Anything for my girl. Just glad you made it back to us." His eyes moved over to Willow, a shadow of doubt visible on his features. "How is she?"

Buffy retraced her earlier path along Willow's eyelids with her fingertips. "Alive. And hopefully safe. _For now._" She spoke the last two words as a whisper.

Dean couldn't help but try and decipher her meaning. Against his own will, somewhere along the way, he'd come to care what happened to the red-headed witch. She was a powerful player in their game of good vs. evil and had guts unlike most magical creatures he'd come across. She was a wild card, but a peculiarly put together one. The few times they'd actually spoken she'd woven a bit of a spell over him, and looking at her now all he could think was that it would really suck to lose her.

A half a second of silence later Willow was shooting out of her coma-like state same as Buffy had. Dean, Xander and Buffy jumped to her side, moving in closer than necessary.

"Will!" Xander shouted, relief evident in his voice.

Willow choked on the air as if she'd been drowning. Buffy sank into the bed beside her, wrapping a bear hug around her and tackling the poor witch into the sheets she'd just sprung from. Dean tried not to chuckle at the strange movement Willow made in an effort to free herself from the slayers embrace.

"Bu-uffy!" She stuttered around ragged breathes.

Buffy straightened them both immediately, fretting over Willow's mussed hair. By the time Willow regained her senses she and Buffy were sharing a strange look. One that spoke volumes to the rest of the confused crowd. One that made Dean seek out Xander's equally confused glance. They were alone in this feeling. One that didn't put together the whole picture, but left the puzzle a mess of pieces.

"Willow?" Buffy asked, a tone devoid of inflection.

Dean's curiosity sprang to life full force.

Willow nodded. "I saw it all Buffy. _He_ let me see it." Dean tried to control his rising barrage of questions flooding his mind. Who was _He_? What had the witch been allowed to see?

Buffy's eyes widened on her best friend. "What is happening Will? What is happening to me?"

Willow's eyes never showed an inclining of what she was thinking, yet her words swallowed the room in a mass of emotions. "It's all a game Buffy. It's all one big giant game. The Powers That Be, they are laughing at us. And it's at your expense."

Buffy shook her head as if violence was about to amass her reality. "But, _why?_" Her voice caught on the question, anger shaking her.

Willow's eyes cast doubt over the room. For a breath of a second everyone was sullen and defeated. "Forget the why, hell forget the what, who and how. You are running out of time Buffy, it's the when you should be worrying about."

Buffy's back locked upright and Dean could sense the tension rolling off her in waves. "What do you mean?"

"The game is on a countdown ticker Buffy, and the sand on this hourglass is running out."

Dean watched in horror as the color drained from Buffy's face. "How much time do I have?"

Willow shook her head lightly, fearing the answer she already knew was coming. "Thirteen hours left. The cursed number. Give or take a handful of minutes."

"How do I get out of it Will?"

Willow's mouth opened but no sound came out.

"Willow?" Buffy urged. "What do I have to do to win?"

"You have to choose Buffy. You have to choose which world is real."

Willow's eyes pleaded with her best friend to understand. Dean saw it so clearly. Xander remained wooden beside the bed, his eyes never leaving Buffy.

"I have to…_choose._" Buffy whispered to herself, as if the question itself was irreprehensibly absurd. She seemed to be fighting the urge to scream. "Choose? Choose."

Her eyes closed as a tear slide free from her burning gaze. Dean wished he could hold her then, wished he could help her with this choice. He wanted to tell her to run from this wretched version of reality and escape in the world where Sam still existed. He wanted to hold onto her and beg her to choose the here and now. He wanted to find a way to bring Sammie back so they could continue their lonely existence, back when things were simply fucked up opposed to grandly fucked up like they were now.

Nothing made sense. No choices were worth the pain_ just living_ caused the soul.

"But Buffy," Willow warned, a roughness coating her voice, "You should know something before you choose."

Buffy didn't ask what, she saw Willow wanted to tell her, even if against her will.

"There is no right or wrong choice."

Buffy frowned. "What do you mean?"

Willow's own eyes took on a shadow cast so deep Buffy feared for her sanity now more than ever. "There is no perfect choice because, well, both worlds are real. You've been shown two paths, two realities divided alternately within your universe. This is just one possibility. But there is no wrong choice."

Buffy shook her head violently. "They are _both_ wrong choices, this whole thing is a wrong choice! It's sick! They are sick." She spat, raising her fingers to the sky. "You hear me," she continued to shout at the ceiling. "You are sick fucks! I won't let you do this to me anymore! No more choices, no more!"

Dean backed up a step, viewing for the first time all the real fury brewing under the surface of Buffy Summers. He'd glimpsed a thousand facets of her before, but she always found a new way to shock him.

"If you want me to live in this world, fight for you in _this_ world, you will stop this_, right now, _because I refuse to be the one making these choices anymore. Give me more of your otherworldly ultimatums; I dare you, because you won't get a choice out of me, not anymore. I quit."

She stormed from the room like a tornado. Taking the emotion and power out of the air around them.

Dean's eyes watched her go, longing to follow. He matched gazes with Xander and Willow, passing a silent confusion back and forth between them all.

"What happens now?" Xander asked softly.

Willow shrugged, visibly battling her onslaught of tears. "Hope we all get to see tomorrow," she guffed lightly through a sheen of tears and a watery smile. "Because if you ask me, today really sucks."


	14. The Eleventh Hour (Part 1)

Lucifer watched Willow from the ether, a realm that held his image back from the living. She fussed in front of the mirror, washing her face and downing a glass of water like it was the last few drops she'd ever get.

Curiously enough, unlike most girls, she didn't spend a particular amount of time looking in the mirror. In fact she avoided her own eye contact almost exclusively.

He frowned slightly as she turned away from the sink. What was it about the witch that drew him in? He'd like to think it was merely her power and what she could mean for this wretched world he'd helped destroy long ago. But lying to himself was a rare art form he couldn't bring himself to practice anymore.

She intrigued him to no end. He longed to find out every thought running through her mind. Almost against his will he appeared before her suddenly. She stopped short with wide eyes, but no scream followed.

He quirked a brow. "Not the reaction I was expecting, I must say. Interesting."

Willow fidgeted slightly with the ends of her long sleeve shirt. He followed the motions before meeting her gaze again.

"I saw you, at Dawn's funeral." Willow mumbled numbly, the question of who he was exactly sinking in.

"Yes."

"What do you want from us?" She asked lightly, obviously curious.

"I wonder why, since you have already deduced who I am, you aren't afraid of me?"

Her green eyes widened a bit in surprise but narrowed before he could enjoy the emotion he evoked in her.

"I wonder why you care either way." She retorted, but it wasn't a question, it was a statement, and a maddening one at that.

He nodded with a smile. "Right, right. I forgot for a second who I was dealing with."

Willow clenched her jaw in frustration. "You speak as though you know me. You don't."

"I know _of_ you, isn't that enough?" He teased.

She eyed his dying vessel and he forced himself to straighten under her scrutiny. "What is wrong with you?"

"Does it matter?"

Willow narrowed her eyes. "Why do you always answer my question with a question?"

"Why are you so suspicious of me?"

Lucifer thought for a moment he could hear the witch grinding her teeth together. He tried not to smile.

"I think the 'Where do I start?' part of my answer is a bit overdue. You are the original fallen angel, the king of Hell, and you are asking me why I suspect bad things from you? That's funny, truly." Her tone was dry and Lucifer almost allowed the impact they were meant to create touch him.

He didn't like the way the female human made him feel. Didn't like it one bit. She was beneath him, part of a mistake-ridden race not worthy of saving most of the time, yet when he was near her his mind was in constant chaos.

Dawn had evoked a deep seeded curiosity for him. A powerful energy unlike any other, stuffed into a human shaped mold. She was so much like him; a creature not made for good or evil, but one that was allowed freewill over all worlds. Their connection was one of understanding. He didn't often have the opportunity to be understood. He'd forgotten how that felt. Yet as much as he'd felt for Dawn, it paled in comparison to what the witch made him feel.

He realized with a jolt that he _feared_ what being around her would mean for him. _Fear._ He hadn't felt that in a _very_ long time.

"I suppose you _would_ think that. Judgment falls freely from all your hearts. Why should I have suspected any different from you?" He snapped, and paled back into the ether.

The words were meant to be harsh but he regretted them immediately. He didn't wish to push the witch away. Yet another part of him needed to. You didn't survive as long as he had in a warring world without being overly cautious. He just wished he could ignore the pain it evoked in him.

He'd already lied to her once, allowing his brother's cleverness to play out a bit more in the witches mind. He supposed he could've let the witch retain her real memories but it was a split-second decision and he was trying to make amends for what he'd started all those thousands of years ago. His brother was just playing anyway, what harm could really come to the gang from all this?

Letting Willow believe it was The Powers That Be that were pulling the strings to their puppet show was a harmless white lie. The who didn't matter. Not this time around. They wouldn't be able to stop the inevitable end game his brother had in store for Buffy. And Lucifer wasn't sure he cared enough at all about the slayer to try and stop him.

As long as Willow stayed safe and Buffy didn't die, per his promise to Dawn, the rest was all just minor details.

He watched silently as Willow stormed off down Bobby's hallway. A spark of regret lit to life in his chest and sat there smoldering. He rubbed subconsciously at his breast.

He'd stick around for a bit more, he had nothing better to do anyway.

* * *

Willow emerged from the hallway with wild eyes. Buffy couldn't help but jump at the sudden entrance of her best friend. "What is it?" she prodded.

"I just saw your old friend from down below."

Buffy's mind slammed on against the possibility of it being Sam, but quickly threw out that idea. It was just a fleeting hope. In this reality, Sam truly was gone.

"Lucifer," Willow continued. "He like, _appeared_ to me in the bathroom."

Buffy couldn't help the grimace that was now displayed on her face. "You mean like, he…"

Willow waved a frantic hand at Buffy as she crossed the room to the bed Buffy was resting upon with a mass of Bobby's books. "No , no, not creepy like that-well-no, I mean I was leaving the bathroom when he like-poof- appeared in front of me."

Buffy nodded, moving some books out of the way so Willow could scoot closer.

"It was bizarre, but I got the distinct feeling he wasn't there to hurt me."

Buffy's eyes took on a skeptical slant. "What did he say?"

"Not much to be honest. I think I made him upset, cause he snapped at me and left."

Buffy couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, despite their present turmoil. "You made the evilest man in the history of time upset and all he did was whine in your general direction and run away? Willow, I think you are my favorite person ever."

Willow grinned over at her best friend. "I do what I can." She nodded in vast approval of herself.

"I don't know what he is up to, but I really don't like it. Why is he interfering now? And why in this reality and not the other?"

Willow shook her head slowly. "I don't know. But if The Powers That Be _and_ Lucifer are involved I'd really like to know what they intend to achieve by all this."

Buffy's eyes fell to her lap. "I can't choose Will."

Willow reached for Buffy and the touch was a gentle one, meant to reassure her she was not alone. She'd never tell her best friend it only reaffirmed the fact that she could lose this version of Willow too. She wasn't just giving up Dean if she chose the world Sam existed in, she'd be giving up her memories from this one, her freewill. Choosing wasn't an option; _not_ choosing was her only option.

"I know," Willow said quietly, "I know."

Buffy's mind wandered around the brothers, holding each world against the other, wishing with a force unlike any other that she could simply put the worlds together.

"Will?"

"Yes?"

"Do you…do you believe it is possible to have two soul mates?" Buffy asked, her voice cracking a bit mid-sentence.

Willow chewed the bottom of her lip thoughtfully. Buffy wondered if Willow was thinking of Oz or Tara, or both.

When Willow met eyes with her Buffy could sense Willow's answer before it came to her. "I believe that souls, like anything else, like the tides, like the Earth, are pulled together by magnetism. It's not religion, or magick, or even fate, its science. We are strung together by energy and therefore no matter how far we stray, we always come together again. So, _yes_. There is a possibility of many soul mates in a lifetime, and we are always open to more. That I suppose, is up to us."

Buffy nodded, tears forming in her eyes. "Thank-you."

Willow leaned into Buffy's frame and embraced her. Buffy tried her best to not use her slayer strength, but she felt the need to expend some of the pent up emotion. Willow's slight squeak had Buffy grinning all of a sudden. She eased slowly out of Willow's arms dashing at her tears before they fell. "Sorry."

Willow only smiled in return. "Never a problem _soul mate._"

Buffy's heart leapt at the small reference to their unique connection. She wasn't sure what she'd do half the time if it wasn't for Willow. For someone so often lost she had a knack for helping people find their way.

Maybe her feelings for Dean were justified by the principle that a soul mate wasn't necessarily an exception to the rule. Maybe soul mates ran in different breeds and came to us in all forms; as best friends, lovers _and_ enemies. Maybe sometimes they were all three, maybe they were only one.

But justified or not, Buffy knew now she only ever had one path, and it just so happened to be the one she was on all along.


	15. The Eleventh Hour (Part 3)

Bobby glared menacingly at Dean from across his desk. It was the eleventh hour, literally and figuratively, and they were on their last shreds of hope. From what he caught onto, The Powers or whatever those jacked up power-hungry beasts upstairs called themselves, an ultimatum was in the slayers court.

Bobby wasn't sure how he felt about that. Buffy was slowly becoming like a daughter to him. She fit in well with the brothers, they were all stubborn and pig-headed and didn't take no for an answer. He liked the girl well enough. But Buffy was the sort of unpredictable person to think with her heart first and worry about the consequences later.

Bobby's game had always been to organize the unorganizable. He set a hunter straight, kept charts, relied on facts. He didn't place bets he knew he couldn't win and he watched a case from every angle before he dove head first into it.

Yet where Buffy was concerned, he had begun to resent the failure that stemmed from trying to track or control that girl. He envied Giles for the patience to deal with her. Giles had simply smiled, saying he'd learned to let control go of any situation involving Buffy. The girl was a free thinker, no matter where it took her.

He eyed Dean now with open contempt. "I am finding it hard to believe you don't have a two-cents to lay down on this."

Dean chewed the bottom of his lips and shook his head. "I do, but it wouldn't matter. We both know her enough to know she will do what she wants."

Bobby tried his best to not look aghast. "What the devil is happening to you? You used to be the front runner of opinions, even when not a soul wanted to hear it, you'd throw your ideas into the mix. Twenty odd years of listening to whatever ill-conceived notions of life you had brewing up in that noggin of yours and what, now when it truly matters, you can't get a word out?" Bobby grunted and took a swig of his beer.

"You don't understand Bobby. I-I trust her. Simple as that."

Bobby let his brows raise a good inch above where they should be. "Balls. So you love her then too?"

Dean finished off his luke warm beer and cradled the glass in his hands. "You wouldn't understand."

"What? Love?" Bobby questioned, a thread of irritation in his voice. "Don't insult me and pretend I don't know what true love is. But still, the girl can barely hold her own head together half the time and you trust her with all our lives?"

"This, this is the part you don't get. And I wouldn't want you to, not yet anyway. Just trust me, trust me that we all can trust her." Dean scooted away from the table and ambled off upstairs, his oddly obscure statements turning in Bobby's brain.

Dean was anything but unanimous; he was the first to disagree, the last to stick to his own beliefs, no matter the cost. And now, when the cost seemed to be so high, he trailed behind Buffy with his tail between his legs? It didn't make a lick of sense. He just hoped the boy would come into his right mind before the clock ran out for all of them.

* * *

Dean stood framed in the doorway to the guestroom where Buffy sat sprawled out with Willow, their noses stuffed away in several books.

The sight of the two of them focusing so intently was rather adorable. Dean tried not to think about it. He cleared his throat. Buffy looked up with a small smile that Dean returned.

Instantly unspoken words passed between them.

_Buffy…_Dean's inflection carried the weight of worry.

_I know what I'm doing Dean. You said you trusted me._

_Always. _He sighed.

_Then trust._

He nodded and Willow frowned a bit at the odd exchange she hadn't been privy to. When her eyes returned to her book Buffy's line of vision returned to her book as well but her voice still resounded within his head.

_You can't stay here. _She chided.

_I know._

_Trust me?_

_You know I do._

_Then go._

Dean soaked in the site of her one last time before the end. He wished she could look up, wished he could be awarded that one last glance of her _as her_ and not the person she would soon be.

He missed her already. Wished there was another way. But no amount of wishing would save them this time. They had one chance, and that was to fight. He always knew he'd go down swingin'. Just wished it didn't have to be like this.

Dean closed his eyes and turned from the door, sketching Buffy's small features like a still life through his mind.

This was it. The final fight. The eleventh hour.

At least he had two more epic hours to kill with Bobby before the universe got a rude awakening.

He sailed back down the steps to find Bobby right where he left him. Snatching two more beers from the fridge he padded back to the desk in silence. Bobby's wane smile was all the ice breaker he needed.

They clinked glasses and laughed over what could be their final hours. All their lives, in this one and the next, in the hands of one tiny girl and her penchant for provoking authority.

It was a good thing Dean really did trust her, or else all this lying was going to be for nothing.


	16. The Unravelling Plan

Buffy and Dean slowly watched the kitchen clock, yet all the while careful not to watch each other. The hour was on them, the thirteen since Willow had given them the countdown.

It hadn't taken Buffy long to figure out The Powers plans. Buffy knew their games well. They were all about the greater good. Yet the sad part was they didn't care who they destroyed in the process of obtaining it. This wasn't her first time on The Powers That Be's chopping block.

She'd devised a plan. One that she hadn't been able to share. She regretted that aspect of it, but it was for the best. What she was about to do was something she wasn't proud of. She'd rather the gang not know, in case it gave the game away.

Her choice was complete, it'd been made the second she'd heard about the ultimatum really. The last thirteen hours were just preparation. She couldn't be more ready.

The morning was now new. One minute past midnight rang out of Bobby's old kitchen clock with a final dull chime.

Buffy didn't look at Dean, simply walked outside to the back salvage yard. _It was time._

Give or take a few minutes.

Willow and Xander watched her go with solemn eyes. She knew the one project she had left Will with had created an unnecessary amount of confusion in her best friend. She saw the words _wrathful _and _mistake_ when Buffy suggested dragging Sam across universes…Buffy saw the word _victory_.

She would put the worlds together or she'd die trying. If The Powers wanted her to choose a path, pick a Winchester, they'd just have to live with the final problem being solved _her _way.

She wouldn't give up on either world, either brother. She deserved more than that. They all did.

When Dean slowly followed her retreat outside she took one last breath. This was it. _Show time._

* * *

Willow's hands shook violently on the Earth. Bobby stood over her, nervously fretting alongside Xander. They both didn't have a clue what she was about to attempt. She liked it better that way. In case The Powers decided to punish her and Buffy for what they were about to try…they couldn't be blamed.

All they knew was Buffy had a plan. Bobby was half drunk and wholly unenthused with leaving all the trust in the slayers court. Willow could tell he itched to help. But she couldn't allow it.

They were in charge with more than saving this world now, they were in charge of saving Sam's life.

When Buffy had first suggested melding the two universes Willow had been resistant to the end. Her powers were still dangerous and unpredictable.

She missed Tara. Her soul mate always gave her a strength she felt lacking. The darkness inside her had all the confidence. She didn't know how tograsp that without losing herself along the way.

She owed this world, and Sam, more than that.

He had been through the ringer this past year and a half. Maybe more according to Dean's sorrowful expressions. She had the feeling the brothers had had it hard before Sam stumbled into their lives by fate. She wanted more than anything to give him a chance for a future now. With or without Buffy. He deserved to have his life back. He deserved a shot at living.

Willow allowed that feeling of hope to encompass her. Her flowery embroidered jeans collected the dirt at the knees as she pushed herself deeper into the Earth. She bent, dragging her hands over the dirt and clotted grass in Bobby's front yard. The world was sleeping. Good thing too, because she made quite a sight.

Her hair suddenly stood on end, the shoulder length pieces turning a fiery orange as if lit up from the inside out. She imagined from the electricity at her scalp that they danced on invisible wind. She felt the power in her, felt it all bubbling over the crusts of the Earth, searching for a home within her.

She braced herself for the worst, focusing intensely on the happiness she sought for Sam.

He was a true friend. A warrior. A hero. He was a savoir for the weak. A helping hand for the helpless.

He'd brought her best friend happiness in a time of despair and he represented so much light in a world tinged with darkness. _Sam, Sam, Sam_…her mind chanted on repeat.

An orange flavored heat touched her tongue and she knew the energy around her was building, seeking a way in. She waited for it to charge, waited for the moment she couldn't keep it out anymore.

Her teeth chattered, her nerves on fire. A hollow sound echoed to her from what sounded like a million miles away. The cries sounded like Xander and Bobby. She couldn't make much out anymore. The Earth power was tapping itself against her will now, surfacing faster and faster, taking with it her sanity. She grit her teeth against the chill that set her veins aflame.

Her skin was licked with orange paths, routes of power planting and growing within her skin. Like veins they took solid root inside her flesh. It hurt. She ignored it.

Sam…_Sam…_She continued her mental chant.

Suddenly the energy was too much, she knew it was now or never. She reached outward, probing the world she had been in, searching her memories for his image. When she caught it, it shone like a beacon inside her mind. His face held fast within her.

Grabbing for him with her mind she dragged his essence to her chest. Liquid heat filled her mind, blinding her, yet she held onto her mantra, calling his name on repeat till her throat went hoarse.

A second later all was silent. A hallow drumming buzzed in her ears and the air around her crackled as if lit alive by a thousand fireflies. Streaks of white and orange energy bit at the world around her.

Xander and Bobby's hands moved over her body, grasping her shoulders and holding her back steady.

She sat back on her heels, gasping for air that wasn't filled with so much humidity. When it came to her she sighed in relief.

"Will!" Xander called again, anxiety coating his tone. "Are you okay? What happened?!"

She managed a nod, accepting she was alive, but the spell might have failed. She surveyed the area with wide eyes, hoping Sam was somehow here with them. She hadn't felt that much power before, but there was no finality to the spell. No reassurance she had always had before. She couldn't tell if it worked.

"Did it-Is Sam?" She stuttered. Bobby frowned, trying to help her to her feet. She leaned into his solid embrace, soaking up the strength he shared.

His frown said it all. If Sam was back he wasn't here. The boys looked confused but the air thinned instantly, allowing them both a moment of solid realization. They knew now what Willow had tried to do. She was glad for it, she didn't have the energy left to explain.

Instantly Xander snapped his fingers and unlatched his arms from Willow. "The basement! He-he's in the basement."

Willow shook her head at her best friend. She might be delirious and exhausted but Xander was rambling. "What?"

"When I was split in two, by that demon Tothy or whatever his name is. The spell to put me back together, it-" Xander's hands clasped together violently and he squished his fingers back and forth, rubbing. Willow watched with wide eyes. "I sort of just _came_ back together."

Willow started to shake her head but stopped. "This is different. These are alternate versions of Sam, not the same person split apart."

Xander started backing towards the house. "But can two of him exist in one place? Or would his soul come back to his body here?"

Willow frowned, a migraine weaving its way through her frontal lobe. "When I was with Buffy on the other side, alternate Willow existed alongside me."

"But you were dream walking." Bobby interrupted "That is different."

Willow tried to think clearly but her mind was a frazzled mess. "I-I don't know."

Bobby's frantic gaze met Xander's and with a nod the boys abandoned her in search of Sam's corpse down below.

Either they were right and Sam was back in this world with them. Or she had failed and all they would find is the same rotting corpse they all couldn't seem to let go of.


	17. The Future Has Me

Dean's soul ached. He listened to the lull of the crickets in the grass. Their hidden songs sang out around him and Buffy in the dead of night.

When she turned into Dean's grasp he felt her trepidations about these last moments. He had them too.

They were about to poke the sleeping bear. He hoped Willow would come through for them. Somehow that aspect of the plan didn't hold as much doubt for him as did his own. He could easily fail this time. At least he wasn't going down without a fight. Much better than the option of living under constraints as Buffy had said.

He cupped her face gently, his rough palms sliding over fair skin. His eyes sought hers, wanting, _needing_ for her to understand him above his actions and words. "This could be our last moments. Truth seems more right than it ever did. I-I fought it for too long. I tried to be the person you saw in me. Tried to stay away from you, but I can't."

Buffy turned away from him in a jerking motion. "I know why you are doing this. I represent all of the things you are trying to keep buried. Just…please don't."

Dean's gaze hardened on her in protest. "I'm _not_ using you. And I am _not_ expecting you to help me forget who I am. I don't need you to save me. All I ever wanted was for you to _be there_ for me while I try and save myself!"

Buffy reeled at the sudden accusation. "Haven't I always been? Haven't I tried?" He tried not to let the emotion sweep him up. When she hurt, he hurt now.

This was their game, their _show_. But maybe he _needed_ to air it all out, maybe he _needed_ to embrace the unspoken.

To save them all, he'd do anything.

Dean allowed his eyes to widen on Buffy. She was turning everything around on him so easily, he wondered for a half a second how much of this game was real for her. Was she truly trying to escape him?

He didn't know how much longer he could give chase to her winding emotional coaster. His heart ached, his soul lost to a woman more vibrant than the sun itself.

It was alright, he'd long ago accepted feeling dead inside. Without Buffy or Sam, it all meant nothing.

He rounded on her, hissing under his breath, "I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend you don't mean _everything_ to me."

Buffy stood her ground. "I never asked you to!"

Dean tried to collect himself and failed. He _was_ losing himself to this facade. Their plan was an ingenuous one, and it was about to implode on him if he wasn't careful with his feelings.

"No, you didn't _did_ you?" He grit out slowly. " You run and hide from everything and _see _nothing."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Dean waved a frustrated hand at her, "Forget it. Forget everything. You are good at that."

* * *

Buffy's heart rummaged about in her chest, searching for a way to escape. It was betraying her. Over and over again since they met, it was turning her over to a part of herself she never wanted to be. Could she be that part of herself for Dean? Accept the shadows too instead of always living for the light with Sam?

She hated that this game was so readily drudging up real feelings. She fought to keep them separate for as long as she could.

"Stop it! Just stop taking everything back seconds after you say it!" Her hands were in her hair now, raking it to and fro. It was a nervous gesture she'd picked up only after meeting Dean.

* * *

Dean gingerly removed both of her small fists from her blonde curls, releasing them to the wind. He pulled her in and she couldn't find air. "_My God_, _Buffy,"_ he rasped. "Don't you see what you do to me? I wish to Christ I could take this pain from you, this confusion. But it's something I can't grasp at. Give me something to fight and I will, but this_,_"_-I am lost to it- _"I can't make this go away for you."

* * *

Seeming unable to stop himself, he rubbed his jaw across her cheek, over and over. She wanted to pull back, tried to. Nothing moved them. _All this strength and all I can do is stand here._

When she pulled free from him he let her go, his arms deadened. Her eyes held the apology her lips couldn't muster. One he easily read.

She couldn't do this. She'd be alone forever if her heart wasn't lying right now. It jumped erratically to the beat of their wicked lies. Why was this cementing itself in so much raw truth? She didn't truly have feelings for Dean…did she?

Maybe she always had known. But the truth was always something she couldn't quite fight. Something she'd only ever accepted when it was too late. _Angel, Riley, even Dawn…_every truth. Always too late.

Her eyes met with Dean's. His gaze was heated, full of promise. This was her 'it's not too late' moment and she was throwing it away. But if she stepped into his arms now…_how can I do this to Sam?_ The one person who had saved her soul time and again. The one man who had healed her heart when it seemed beyond repair. _Oh, Sam please understand._

Could she trade the comfort of one heart for the burning flame of another?

With a shake of her head she was gone. Slipping through the door to Bobby's house. This was it. Where they parted ways. He wouldn't follow. Not anymore. This was her last chance. But even before the night had begun, she'd already known it was too late for them. They might survive this night, but they'd never be what they once were.

Because no matter her newfound love for Dean, Sam was still in her heart, and she feared he always would be...even after this.

* * *

Dean watched her go. Every part of him wanted to lift his deadened limbs and trail after her. No part of him actually moved.

She'd turned away for the last time, real or pretend, it hurt. There was a moment when he knew he'd have to try harder to stop loving her because he didn't have a place in his life for another person he couldn't bear to lose. He just never saw it coming so soon. There always seemed to be more time.

More time to pretend that every other second she belonged to his world and his world alone.

She had cut out every shallow pit inside him and replaced it with something of her own making. Her laugh taunted him. Her breath pulled him in. He craved the weight of her words, no matter how harsh.

She was the better half of him, and he had nothing to offer of himself in return.

How could he ever ask her to throw away her chances for peace on a lonely soul like him? It was selfish of him. He wanted nothing more than for her happiness, yet he couldn't deny himself the right to possess a part of her. Not when it was all that seemed to matter to him lately.

She consumed him. There was nothing left to say.

He stared at the door she'd disappeared through. _Last chance._ That's what she'd thought, her eyes screamed it. The words floated around him now, haunting him. It was his last chance, hers as well. _And I lost her before I ever found her... _

Dean thought blindingly of death, that maybe they were too late and she wasn't about to burst back through that door and save them all... It was weak, it was wrong. But he thought of it all the same. How he would gladly welcome it right now, how he would trade this feeling for any other.

And no man would die with more regrets than him. He would never have the chance to make things right with Buffy. Never hold her, or hear her voice again.

He would leave this world the same way he came back into it. Alone and confused, blinded by the ungodly power she held over him. He'd thought her an angel then..._how foolish of me._

Now he knew the truth. No such thing existed. She was a demon. Her power complete and unyielding.

The sound of the backdoor opening was an afterthought. The feel of the wind at his face as she rushed back towards him seemed like a dream.

For a split second hope sailed his heart, taking it from his body. In that moment her fist collided with his jaw. Pain sung outward from his body. His head snapped back to her angry expression.

So _this_ was her game all along? Two could play this one. He refused to go along for the ride any longer.

"Why me?!" she screamed, fury tainting her in ways he'd never thought he'd see. "Why now? Why are you doing this to me? I hate you! I should _kill_ you. End this twisted thing you've started."

The words spread like venom through his veins. He clutched at his own chest for a moment, wondering about her powers and how far they extended.

"Do it then! Put me out of my fuckin' misery." His voice was barely audible, but she didn't need to understand the words to register them. She _knew,_ how could she not?

Her lips parted wordlessly.

"Think of all the things I've done to you. What I will _keep_ doing to you. Last chance?" He laughed bitterly, "That is the lie I tell even myself to be rid of you! There is no such thing as a last chance when it comes to you Buffy. You exist in a place beyond all rules for me." The revelation whispered out of him and her eyes watered instantly as his collided with hers. "You _always_ will." He breathed; an afterthought to his profound statement.

* * *

Buffy tried not move. She knew she was running out of time. She had to make her choice and make it now, or risk losing both worlds. She just wasn't sure she wanted to go through with the choice she knew all along she should be making. A part of her feared losing Sam forever.

She shook her head frantically, forcing her soul mate from her head and heart.

Her traitorous body now owned every part of her. Dean shook with a rare fury, his jaw clenched tight, a muscle ticking in it. _Gods,_ Dean was so damaged, so beyond repair. Had she really done this to him? Wasn't it the other way around? Wasn't _she _the one who was angry a moment ago?

As she gazed at his eyes dim impressions arose of thoughts he must be forcing her way. Yet they scattered as they touched her.

Everything had always been so clear between them. He looked and she knew the thoughts behind those eyes.

Now he looked on and she was never so lost. The words hate and love battled each other for a place in her mind. How could she ever decide whether to give in or keep fighting? _How can I turn away?_

Suddenly he gripped her shoulders, yanking her into him.

"No!" She raised her leg at the last minute, kicking him further back into the yard. _I'm not ready! _her mind screamed wildly.

"Why can't you do it!?" he spat. "Why can't you just let me go?"

"Don't be stupid!" Her voice sounded dazed, even to her own ears. "Do you really want me to? Are you really that miserable? You'd rather me end your life and crush your brother's heart? Is there really no other option for us?"

Tears welled in her eyes. His face flashed a pain so deep she felt it too. Yes, in this moment he'd rather die than face any tomorrow without one of them in it. Buffy or Sam; he had the same choice and he'd tried to choose Sam. Tried for so long.

They shared that choice. Were haunted by it. Yet she condemned him for the same feelings she now battled with. She watched his expression shift from one extreme to the other.

Pain and hate personified. He was like her tormented dark angel. She'd so often saw in him everything _she _was. Read his mind readily. Yet she shunned him time and again because his wings had been inked black instead of the white she thought she deserved.

She deserved nothing. Especially not the unconditional love of a man who saw all of her and loved it all just the same. Could she say the same for Sam? Maybe. Maybe he would love all her dark parts. But that didn't explain why she feared showing them to him. She'd shut Sam out long ago.

With Dean it was simple. There was no question of sharing all she was with him.

Sam would always create that unattainable version of herself she was exhausted to be. It was who she wanted to be, told herself she could be, time and again. But what he saw gave her more than she deserved. Here and now, she was the one who deserved the hate radiating from Dean.

But by the time she'd accepted it, love had replaced his warring thoughts.

He didn't try to approach her again but cast her a darkly possessive look. She returned it. This was it. They _had_ to make the choice, they didn't have any more "give or take a few minutes" left to spare.

The Powers were watching…

"There never can be a third option for us," Dean started, his voice pained, "I tried that, for so long. I thought we could be friends, at one point I really thought it'd work. But I've lost that feeling now, lost it to a place I know I'll never get it back from."

His words were multilayered. She understood. There was no hope for what they once shared. Sam would see to that...

His eyes held goodbye as he said, "I never had you to begin with, but I swear I feel like I'm losing something more important than life itself."

She couldn't stand it anymore. Couldn't fight it. If Sam was her soul then Dean was everything else. He was the breath in her lungs, forcing her to go on when she felt she couldn't breathe. He was the blood in her veins, mapping the pathways to and from her heart. He was the skin that held her together and the bones that kept her in one place.

She couldn't have existed without him. And maybe, just maybe, a part of her clung to Sam out of gratitude for showing her that in the first place.

She'd always love Sam, always, but this had to be the end for her, especially if she wanted to save him...

Because god help her, but she wanted her surly, fucked-up hunter more than she wanted her perfect one.

Steeling her resolve, she reached up to cup his cheek. "I need your help."

He frowned down at her. She opened her mind until he dove in and retrieved her thoughts.

_Want him so badly, need him so much..._

He dipped down instantly, his lips slanting over hers. He let out a sharp groan, one she returned silently, devouring his need. The conflict within her was thrown away in that moment. Shivers raced over her. Inked ones.

He kissed her until they were breathing _for_ each other, until they were both lost...

They never even saw Sam on the porch. Not until they'd both broken free from their fever moments later. And even then, it was too late to go back and do things again.

The damage had been done.

And when Buffy tore after Sam into the house Dean let her go. And she loved him for it. Because it was another one of those many things he just understood she needed to do.

And without that understanding, she didn't know where she'd be.

* * *

Sam's mind was slipping. It was being derailed from reality faster than he could chase it. _Buffy and Dean. Dean and Buffy. _There was no doubt now. The two had shared more than a deep friendship. No last second misjudgment could bring about what he had seen.

It was a gallows kiss. One meant to be the last you ever shared with someone you knew you couldn't live without. He'd always overlooked their deep and strange connection. Yet now every last glance between them thundered to the forefront of his mind, carrying with it another story. The true story?

With it went all the lies he told himself to fill the awkward spaces.

Buffy's dead expression only sold him on his new truths.

He rounded on her in a second. _"Why?_ Wh- How could you do that!?" He shouted, anger vibrating through Bobby's small kitchen.

"I-I fell in love with him." Buffy's eyes were cast downward. _Was that shame?_

She couldn't even watch as his heart shattered. She couldn't even see it happen.

"_How?_ _When? Why?"_ The jumble of one word questions spilled from his lips.

She merely shrugged as if it was a simple question there was an obvious answer to.

He stared in horror, realization slipping into his features one by one.

* * *

It was breaking her apart. She knew it was wrong, but he deserved to live more than he deserved the truth. He deserved everything her broken heart was now never allowed to give.

Because it was now supposed to be Dean's.

She continued slowly, "Falling in love with Dean was like…falling asleep, it happened very slowly...then all at once." She searched his face for forgiveness. Desperation clawing at her. _I am destroying him._

Her heart sang to itself for a ping, happiness at seeing him alive again moving to the forefront of her mind. She flinched at the power it held. She beat it back with all her strength. She had to let him go, she couldn't give up, she was _so close_. Willow had come through, and she was so very, very close.

_"I'm sorry."_ She rasped. "I'm so sorry Sam. I didn't mean for it to happen."

He bit back on his lips, nodding in mock amusement. "No I get it. I do. I gave you _everything_ I was and it wasn't enough for you. But out of everyone, it just had to be _him_ didn't it?" He threw an angry gesture towards the back door and shook his head at her, like understanding had failed him completely. It probably had. She knew what this looked like.

When he thundered off into the night she didn't follow. She'd said her part. It would never be the right words, nothing would, but it was enough.

_For now,_ it was enough. He deserved more than even the pretend parts of her she shared.

She wasn't the bright stunning hope he saw in her. He created that when he needed to. He'd do the same for someone else someday. Until then, she could only wait.

Hearts never healed correctly. They left jagged scars. She had the feeling her Sam Winchester shaped-wound would be bleeding still for years to come.

He was the beginning of something she never saw coming. And whether he forgave her for it or not, one day she might be able to share with him the perfectly ugly truth of everything inside Buffy Anne Summers.

But until then she'd set him free. Because if anything, he deserved just that.

With a swift motion Buffy yanked free the gun hidden in her jeans. A Colt single-action revolver. It was Bobby's favorite piece.

She'd never been a fan of guns, never understood them. She wasn't about the action of killing, she was in the business of protecting. Slaying came at a cost but the time it awarded her enemies to give themselves up was a bonus. Guns were swift ends. They held no space for mistakes. If you didn't know what you meant to do with it, it might be too late before you ever had the chance to make things right.

Unfortunately for the Winchesters, they were about to understand how much she loved them both, because this was the only way to save both brothers, this was the only way to makes things right.

She narrowed the nozzle to her temple, and with one last breath, pulled the trigger.


	18. The First Missing Piece

Lucifer rolled Sam's cell phone over and over again in his hand, fingering the cool surface. He'd listened to the messages Buffy had left Sam a hundred times. They invoked a feeling in him. He was having a lot of feelings lately. Ones he wouldn't readily admit to, but they were there all the same.

He watched the enfolding chaos before him with a worried expression.

Buffy held herself loosely within Dean's grasp, Dean's hands fitted over hers as they drew her fingers from her hair. The motion was labored, yet tender. Lucifer squinted at the pair in confusion. What were they up to? It was the final few moments of his brother's grand scheme and they were…cuddling?

He watched closer as Dean allowed Buffy to pull out of his embrace and the two locked eyes. Instantly their auras locked onto each other and the colors shifted around them…Lucifer's eyes narrowed on the unsuspecting duo mucking it up with their last few moments.

Suddenly a grin split his face. They were thought sharing! A strange and unique ability some soul mates developed over time. But Buffy wasn't Dean's girl…she was Sam's, so why were they sharing thoughts? And how?

Lucifer ignored the actions, even ignored the words coming from their mouths and focused intently on their gazes. What were they trying to say to each other? What was their endgame?

Suddenly the bond they shared broke free, their auras returning to their own colors. Lucifer eyed Buffy's rainbow of emotion, focusing on the slivers and speckles trying to surface and ignoring the front of pain she was shouldering. It was all a show, he was sure of it. He'd seen Buffy with Sam, seen the two when no one was looking. The girl loved him an impossible amount. It was rather nauseating.

Reds and blue swirled beneath the surface and her eyes shot downward for a brief second. A thought came to him loud and clear and he almost fell over at the realization that she had in fact thought shared with him…

_Angel, Riley, even Dawn…every truth. Always too late._

Lucifer forced his features to remain a mask, yet his heart was in turmoil. Was it at the fact that the eldest Summers girl had forced the words from her mind to his, or was it the words themselves that shocked him?

A part of Buffy still felt like she had failed Dawn. His face twisted into a grimace at the mere thought of never seeing the girl again. She was a wonder. A rarity gone from this mortal world forever. There would never be another quite like Dawn.

Buffy paused and another thought came at him in the ether. How was she doing this? He listened harder. _Oh, Sam please understand._

This time Lucifer outwardly frowned. Understand what? What was the slayer up to?

He was positive at this point whatever she had up her sleeve it was about to go down, and soon. Buffy's aura was bursting with fragments of colors, all pitting wildly around her in a tornado of emotion.

When the two locked eyes again Lucifer's gaze strayed to Dean's eyes. His brows rose at the affection he saw there…that was _not_ the expression of a man in love. It lacked a passion he could only curse at for existing…cause he'd been privy to it of late, and all because of that intriguing red-head.

No, in fact he'd seen that expression time and time again. It was the one Dean reserved for his brother. Could it be possible that the older Winchester cared for the slayer as a sister and nothing else? Their actions and words said otherwise, but then again, this was the eleventh hour and the tiny blonde was a desperate creature…wasn't anything possible?

He wondered what his brother was thinking of the show, no doubt pleased…cause it looked like Buffy was finally choosing which world she preferred.

But something wasn't right. Lucifer felt it in his bones. He'd deceived too many people, betrayed even more. He knew what lies felt like, knew what they _looked_ like, and right now Buffy Summers was a lying little bitch.


	19. The Eleventh Hour (Part 2)

5 Hours Earlier

Dean trailed after Buffy. He'd wanted to give her space, tried, but he couldn't. She'd torn off from the group with a fierce anger and it drew him in like a moth to a flame. He _needed_ to know what was going on in her head.

The Powers That Be were a fairly new concept to him but he got the gist of what they represented. They were a sort of boss for Buffy, a government who held her and her powers in check. And from her reaction to their test, this wasn't the only one they'd handed to her.

She'd looked fed up. And he couldn't ignore his own curiosity anymore.

"Buffy!" He called after her, his voice rough.

She spun on her heels, a bright anger in her green gaze. "No, Dean, just…_don't._" She forced the last word out through grit teeth. Her arm rose of its own accord as if holding him at bay.

He stayed where her imaginary force field kept him.

When he opened his mouth to say his part she cut him off. "I know what you are going to say, but don't. Don't tell me to follow my heart cause I can't. It's too dark now to be trusted. Beg for Sam's life and you just might get the opposite, so save yourself _and_ brother, and just…don't." Her arm shook as it fell back to her side. It was Dean's opening, one he feared he'd never be able to take.

He watched as her shoulders fell and she turned away from him again, the fight gone from her entrance to the salvage yard just a few moments ago.

His own heart was empty. Could he really lose himself again for his brother? Would it even matter? They did this dance with their own souls; offering them up to the pit and snatching them back just in time before they truly bit the dust.

He didn't want life, no, that wasn't the problem. He just didn't want the afterlife more. Had he truly done enough in the short amount of time he'd been back to earn his ticket upstairs? Would Heaven ever be willing to take him in? And if so, did he he even want it?

At this point he couldn't be sure. He'd done so much since the last time he'd died, but was it enough to tip the scales? Spending a few lifetimes in Hell wasn't anything he wished on anyone…well, maybe a few bastards, but unfortunately life didn't always make the correct sacrifices for its own good.

Buffy was right, there was no choice. It was a doomed game from the start.

* * *

Dean watched the shadows fall over the afternoon long after Buffy left. Her reappearance in the late evening was something he didn't quite expect. He assumed she needed to be alone until the final moments were upon them and even then he'd planned on sitting this one out, come what may. He couldn't peg why he ultimately trusted Buffy, but he did nonetheless.

He stiffened on the picnic table halfway out of the side garage. She made a halting gesture when their eyes met.

_Dean,_ she whispered to him, her mouth never moving. The fifty or so feet that still remained unmoved before them suddenly seemed to be only inches. Her voice was inside his mind, and he welcomed it as he never quite had before.

This wasn't magick, and it felt right. Now more than ever, it just did.

_I don't have much time. They are watching us._

Dean's eyes flickered about for a second before resting on hers again._ Sounds about right._

_I have a plan._

Dean forced himself not to nod._ I figured you would._

Her brow quirked and he squinted to not miss it. _Did you now?_ She jabbed.

_Waste some more of our time. Good job. Because it's perfectly normal if they_ are_ watching, that we are just standing here staring at each other._

Buffy huffed out loud and turned to make the short walk back to the house. _Just stay far away from me till the very end._

_Why? _He called after her retreating form.

_Because the finale is always best after the bit of character development and angst that leads up to it._

Dean forced himself not to laugh out loud. He almost wasn't sure what she was doing, but then again he also knew she didn't want him to ask anything more. Impossibilities plagued him, but he found himself asking all the same. _What is going to happen during the "finale"?_

_Oh, that. _She stopped at the doorway entrance and the oncoming eves shadows threatened to swallow her completely from his view. _We are going to give them the ultimate ending. The final episode. Our choice, loud and clear… _She turned for a moment and he caught a glimpse of her profile in the doorway. It held a certain resolution he feared he'd never hold for himself..._and we are going to choose each other._

She disappeared back into Bobby's house and for the first time in weeks Dean felt a weigh starting to lift from his shoulders. Buffy had a plan alright, he should've known better than to believe she'd give up so easy. She was the strongest soul he'd ever met and a warrior to the core. She held onto freewill with an open palm, taunting the world around her to snatch it back. Dean had only ever fought to get it in the first place. They all had.

He wasn't so sure he had any fight left in him sometimes. But then Buffy would say one small thing and his heart sprung back to life. She was in his heart, there was no denying it. But it wasn't the kind of love he always feared it would be, no. He had no fire or passion for her. It was something irreplaceable they shared instead; a solid, like a foundation he'd always had and never gave cause to think about. It was the way he felt for Sammie. An impossibility brought to life, a weakness at his center, and a connection so deep they just saw into each other without a second try.

Dean's mind eased off in silence, giving Buffy her time to prepare for whatever she had in store for The Powers That Be. It was the wrong day to reside in the clouds, because Buffy's _show_ was about to begin, and apparently he was to play the role of the one she couldn't live without.

Because this was what they wanted to see after all wasn't it? A slayer brought to her knees by their power to make her decide?

He shook his head as laughter bubbled over his lips. He couldn't quite help it. She was a crazy little thing alright, but no one played the games this world threw at her quite like Buffy did. And he was proud to call her family.

But _that_ revelation would be put before her feet tomorrow, that is, if they survived today.

Cause today he had to put on another mask, one he'd worn for so long already he knew what it looked like. It was the newly-born-back-into-this-world Dean. The one who'd so long been infected by the stains of Hell into believing Buffy's place in his life was by his side and not simply in his soul. She was family through and through, a sister, a friend, a soul mate. But she'd always belong to Sammie, and he was more than ready to get his damned brother back for her.

And he knew his chance was close, because the shadows crawled across Bobby's yard towards him, and somewhere in the distance, a clock was ticking…


	20. The Second Missing Piece

"Red, long time, no see." Lucifer spouted from the shadows when Buffy had left her friend upstairs alone. Willow glanced up from her books, a chunk of hair clouding her vision.

The girl was an adorable concoction of contained power and soft disguises. He wanted to move closer, but held himself back.

"Two visits in one night? Should I feel special or…" Willow trailed off and Lucifer refused to give her the smile he felt coming. No way should a girl this powerful know he fancied her, even if in a peculiar way.

"The first was a mistake."

She moved her head to the side as if he'd just said something unjust she was trying to understand.

He stepped closer and she stiffened. "I haven't hurt you yet, why would I start now?"

"I have long since given up trying to answer that question."

Lucifer struggled to follow _her_ now. "What question?"

"Any that begin or end with _why_." She pinned him with a look that could kill. He refused to flinch, but at this point she probably had the power to throw a wrench at him and make it hurt, even if she didn't quite have the power to kill him yet.

"Well try and believe me when I say I don't want any harm to come to you."

Willow paled a bit at his words. He tried to let her absorb them, but couldn't find the time. These moments were fragile, his brother could be watching even now. Lucifer just really doubted it seeing as Buffy and Dean were having an ultimate stare fest down below. No the show wasn't up here, it was down there.

He continued in haste, "I have been watching you for a while now," he raised a hand at her gaping mouth, cutting her off, "I get that that isn't the normal thing to do, I get it. But when you live as long as I have, your only choice left is to follow your passions without regret."

Willow's mouth opened and closed several times before it remained closed again. Lucifer took that as an opening. "You…intrigue me _Willow_." He pronounced her name with such intensity he was afraid she'd stop taking him seriously. "I have watched you through this, seen strength in you so quiet it goes undetected by all who pass you. But it is their loss, because you will either be their destruction or their savior and they will never even see it coming."

He inched closer to the bed where she sat, her eyes widening as he moved over her. But when he knelt before her, humbling himself at her feet, she suppressed a small sound. "I want someone like that by my side. On my, _team,_ have you." He explained, using the word team was not something he often did, it faltered on his dying vessels lips.

Willow's eyes narrowed on him when he stuttered. "What _exactly_ are you saying?"

"I'm saying, despite the stories you've heard, I was always one for free choice, free will, freedom of mind _and_ body." He touched two fingers to her arm and she allowed it. "It's why I foolishly fell in the first place. I don't regret the act I took in freeing myself, even if I regret some of what came after. But when life never ends for you, it takes with it most of its purpose, because believe it or not Willow, there is a point where humanity can learn no more."

"Are you saying that there is nothing left for us as humans to learn? I don't believe that for a second."

Lucifer accepted her response, trying to find the colorful soul under this newly placed brick wall. "You are saying that out of fear."

"No." Willow grit out.

"Do you think I would be sitting here about to risk everything if I didn't already know whatyou truly feel in your heart. I've seen it. I've seen you as you are inside" _–and I am lost to it-_ "and out. You have so much untapped power inside you, and it's born from the trust you already have for yourself, but shelter out of fear. You don't survive as long as I have until you realize all the lies we tell ourselves are simply truths masked in guilt."

Willow's shoulders relaxed and Lucifer reached for her hand in that moment, unable to stop himself. Her hand was soft and yielding and he watched as she wrapped her fingers around his, entwining them together. Her huge green eyes found his and fell into them. "Your words are like half-wrapped birthday presents. I know what I'm getting but I have to pretend like I don't to keep the illusion alive. I'm sorry, but _trust_ isn't something I should be allowing myself at all when it comes to you."

"The only thing that holds you in this place of doubt is my past actions and my name. You yourself have a past you'd like to forget and a name is nothing more than the sounds we make to tell each other apart. Trust _me_, trust this man you see before you now."

When Willow hesitated again he pushed on, "I helped you close Hell, I gave Dawn a new life, a purpose. She was wasted in that flesh and she knew it. Her original end was not the one marked for her, and this is not yours. Let me guide you, I will keep you safe, I promise you here and now."

Willow's hand in his began to shake. He watched as her eyes pierced his, searching with some kind of unseen magick for the truth beneath all his words. He let her in. If anyone could handle what resided inside his mind it was Willow.

Pain flashed around inside his mind, yanking at his darkest thoughts and most sinister deeds.

By the end the things she'd seen inside him snapped back at his thoughts like a rubber band. It stung. He'd never allowed another inside him like that before. And he knew quite well that the effect was one only shared by soul mates. Could this tiny witch be his other half? But she was human, that was impossible…wasn't it?

He let the invasion simmer, let Willow register all he was. Her breathes came fast and a small sheen of sweat had broken out on her forehead. He released her hand and stood before her. All in all she'd been inside his mind for but a second, but the effects would last a lifetime. He knew that now.

He made for the door and heard her move off the bed. When he turned to her one last time, he saw more of the same hesitation on her face. He welcomed it, it was a part of her to second guess herself, he could only hope she'd choose the correct path in the end.

"What if I don't want your promise?" She asked, a treble in her voice.

He cocked his head at her and presented her with his most charming smile. "Oh, but my dear, you have it anyway." He bowed and left the room in silence, sifting back into the ether.

She knew now. Knew what memories he'd taken from her when she touched her other-self and gained the knowledge of what was happening around brother would probably never forgive him for giving his game away, but he was done with this new existence they'd led themselves into.

He only wanted to make things right again, and sure maybe it would take another two-hundred thousand years or more, but he had that didn't he? He had all of time and then some.

But first he'd save the wretched souls of the here and now, if only for the sake that it birthed the unique other-half of him he was sure had been lost when he'd fallen.


	21. The Why (Part 1)

The moment before death is a long one. Stretching out in the darkness, time slows; bringing the bullet you can't stop tearing through your skin one millimeter at a time.

Buffy had a lifetime to think about all she'd done to get to this point and a lifetime more to regret half of it. The look on Sam's face when he'd discovered her kissing Dean now cruelly resided behind her eyelids. Would he ever be able to understand she'd love no one else the way she loved him?

He probably wouldn't now. It was all too late to do anything but save Sam and Dean for a world they'd probably be better off defending anyway. She was done. Life wasn't good vs. evil anymore, it was one powerful asshole fighting another and squashing all the little people along the way. If anything Buffy was about to prove no one messes with her and gets away with it. Her choices were her own, even this one.

But Sam's face haunted her nonetheless. She knew her final choices had been the most painful, but she'd pulled that trigger all the same. Both worlds and everyone in them, not just the ones she cared about, were at stake. Both worlds deserved to stay, in a place where all those choices, good or bad, went forward in an existence they _all_ had chosen.

The only thing she'd ever wished could've been different was how she treated Sam. His life was like a beacon of hope for humanity, she saw so much in him. He was her hero. A savior of not only bodies but minds. Where Dean rescued those around him in flesh, Sam sought to heal their spirits as well. What was the next forty years of simply existing if you didn't even see yourself living anymore?

It had taken her mind on spin, this parallel journey she had taken. Before she had been complacent, living her life under the constraints she had designed for herself. But of course it was never enough to have just half of her Winchester.

Was it the fact that she lost Sam first that removed her from her right mind? Sam was her gravity, holding her down when her head was so often in the clouds. If Sam had been in this reality he wouldn't have stood back and trusted her. He would've fought to get her on his team, fought for her to share all of herself with him.

Darkness flashed before her as the cold steel of the gun slipped from her hand.

She might still be alive if he hadn't gone first, fighting for that third option he was always sure existed.

How he carried so much optimism within that broken shell she would never understand. But it was too late now, she'd made her choice. And all she could hope for the world she'd be leaving behind was that everyone's choices would lead them down better paths than hers did.

Her eyes must've been open when she pulled the trigger because all of a sudden two figures rushed at her in deep shadow, being swallowed completely by the ink black encasing her. She experienced her last moments on Earth, unfortunately they were the screams coming from both brothers as they ran for her slumping figure, her name on their lips on repeat till the echoes carried after her very soul.

Instantly she was blinded by white light. Pain reverberated up and down her arms and throbbed behind her eyes. She stumbled through the shock, grasping for anything. Her hands found only air and she fell, hitting the solid ground beneath her with a thud. Her own grunt echoed back at her.

It was immediately swallowed up by a wicked laughter. She forced her weary eyes to crack open. Light flooded into them pentrating her senses. She focused on a figure clad in black at the end of a stark white room. He had on a fully tailored suit with a crisp white shirt underneath, shiny black shoes and a gray button up vest.

His light brown hair was several cuts overdue and his hazel eyes flickered with amusement.

"You like my latest trick?" He snickered lightly but the sound chilled Buffy to her bones. "I call it _The Black Umbrella_."

He snapped his fingers and instantly an umbrella appeared in his hands. He set to tapping his feet as if playing in a puddle, giggling with the childish act.

Buffy forced herself to her feet, her eyes adjusting to the harshness of her surroundings. "Who the _hell_ are you?"

The man stopped tapping long enough to give her a pointed stare. "Hell? No, no." He laughed louder, mirth rising up around him. "Just the opposite in fact, but we can get to that later. You, my pretty lady, can call me The Trickster."

Buffy squinted between the distances they shared. Immediately the man so bent on giving himself a tune to whistle to, snapped to a hairs breadth from her face. "Better view?" he mocked, teasing her.

She reeled back a bit, throwing a punch towards him, one he dodged so artfully she was sure he simply disappeared an reappeared before her. Her mouth instantly ran dry.

She reasserted herself in a fighting stance and took another swing towards him, this one he sifted through as well. Again she made a grab for him, ending up getting a light knock on the head for it. She spun in fury, chasing after his shadows and never quite touching him.

He made it into a dance, allowing her to sprint after his shadows like a fool. She gasped for breath and let out a screech. He paused in his retreat, a grin painting his face.

Buffy scowled. Was this all really a game? Her life to toy with?

"What the _fuck_ is going on here?" she spat, the dirty words feeling revelational on her leaden tongue.

"It's my version of a good time sweetheart, don't fret. I've played these sorts before, no one truly gets hurt. Unless you take my super fun Sophie's Choice and make it into a game of 'Who can sacrifice themselves faster?' Good one at the end there Slayer, you officially had me worried for a half a second."

Buffy's mouth gaped at the man before her. He was unlike anything she'd ever been up against. A power from who knows where, with ungodly speed, superior strength, and a penchant for the theatrics. How was she _really_ going to walk away from this one?

"What do you even want?"

The Tricksters brows raised and he made a shocked face. "I would've thought that would be the easy part. I wanted you to choose darling! Choose which Winchester truly made your heart go pitter patter. I'm just a fan of the build up before the realization, that's all. And _oh my_ choose you did, but it took you quite a bit too long for my tastes. I mean, do you really love them both that much?" He wagged a finger at her. "Tsk tsk. Naughty girl."

Buffy's eyes hardened in hatred. "You are sick. _Why _do you even care?" she grated.

The Trickster eased backward a bit, relaxing into a carefree stance. "Because, believe it or not, I am a softy at heart, and you my dear were making all the wrong choices. Any fool could see it."

Buffy's hands tightened into fists. The Tricksters eyes shot to the gesture with mild amusement. "Planning to try for another round?"

Buffy's teeth slammed together in rage. "If I have to."

"Well that won't do a damned bit of good, sorry. After all you should be _thanking_ me. I helped you navigate the often treacherous road to happiness. Sure it wasn't easy. But now we can all die happy. Am I right?"

Buffy's eyes took on a dangerous glare that she was sure could kill if she only put enough force behind it. "What you did was _sick_."

"What I did was something even the stalwart Sam couldn't have. He was selfishly clinging to the remainders of last year's girl. The pre-Lilith Buffy, pre-losing-Dawn for-good Buffy, pre-all hope-is-lost Buffy. No, she was like a flash in this world, gone before anyone could see. Ah but the tall and brave younger Winchester did see it, and it ruined him. Flat out ruined him. But you were never meant for him. It's just not the way I see it. Nope. You belong to the _other_ brother. So I set up the chess pieces in a world of _my own_ making…one where you could see for yourself who exactly you could live without and who you couldn't. Brilliant huh?"

"Those choices were not yours to toy with! You put me through Hell!"

The trickster laughed and real joy showed in his pinched features. "No my darling, you were the one who walked through Hell. You started all this, then of course refused to accept the truth when it was smacking you in the face. I for one, am Team Summers, but Sam would've only held you back from the future I would like to enjoy for this planet. Lilith ruined your mind _long_ before I did, showing you a future that should've never existed. You don't end up with Sam, because Sam died."

Buffy's face fell. "What are you talking about?"

"He died sweetheart. For real. No tricks." He held up his hands as in mock surrender. "In that pit, last year, he up and died for good." He danced a bit closer to her, pulling at a strand of her hair, Buffy swatted him away like a pest. "Or...at least the part of him capable of having that future with you died. The _second_ you dragged him back from that cage the damage had already been done. Those little dams he keeps putting up in here." He tapped his temple lightly. "They keep amassing the flood waters, and one day, whoosh!" He stretched his arms violently around him.

Buffy watched the motion with weary eyes. "So what you're saying is Sam's mind is a ticking clock, that's the real countdown."

The trickster nodded. "Always will be."

"We'll find a way to fix him."

"Fixing people implies there is something wrong. Sam's not broken. He's just adjusting..._improperly_. Burying it will only make the final floods higher."

Buffy clenched at her fists on repeat, wanting another swing at this insane angel in a tux taunting her. "You are lying."

The Trickster merely shrugged. "If that's what you need to tell yourself."

"I don't believe a damn thing you say. You tricked me for weeks. Forced me away from Sam."

"But beyond all those lies, I led you to the truth. You know it, cause you feel it. I saw the way you were with Dean in your last moments, I saw that brave choice you made, it was electric, and it was very final if you ask me."

"_No._" Buffy bit out.

"From the very start you wanted to accept Dean's world and forsake Sam's. Yet you clung to that last shred of whatever it was you two twisted kids shared. The Sam you first laid eyes on is _dead._ And the Buffy he loves now doesn't exist anymore. You have and always will be, meant for something more than a white picket fence and 2.5 kids in the suburbs. You know that."

Buffy shook her head, not wanting to admit the truth of her deepest fears to the asshole who'd ruined her life, and broken her illusions. Even if they were already cracking to begin with.

But he was speaking as if he hadn't seen Sam waltzing about at the end there. Didn't he get it? That in the end her choice _was_ clear. Her love for both brothers was equal in measurement, but very _very_ different in nature.

"Sam is alive. You failed. I chose the third option, don't you get it? _You lose._"

The Trickster looked a bit shocked at her tone. Buffy stepped it up a notch; he wanted a final didn't he? "By now both world's should be coming back together, your imagination be damned, everyone deserves to hold onto any illusions created for them, real or not real. You think you are all powerful but you are not. You are a child playing chess with humans as your pawns. I just seriously think your problem is you've never been punished. Believe me when I say I'm going to enjoy this."

Buffy broke the orb around her neck at his feet, spewing the last essence of her sister she had. It had been her gift from Lucifer, an ultimatum of Dawn's, her very soul left behind for her sister. Buffy had thought long and hard about this moment, the one that would forever take from her the last shred of her sister. But in the end, it's what Dawnie would have wanted. She would've wanted to save the worlds she was so much a part of. It's what she'd died for after all.

The bright green light pierced a hole in the floor at The Tricksters feet, the effect like a portal opening beneath them. His eyes widened on the small growing spot.

"How?" he sputtered, a strange sort of rage coming over him for the first time since she'd seen him. He was beginning to look his age.

"The how is a story for another day. Just know if you ever come near me and my friends again, I _will_ kill you."

The black umbrella loosely playing at the ends of The Tricksters fingers was suddenly yanked into the vortex spinning at his feet now. Satisfaction played across Buffy's lips. "The next time you think you can play with people's lives, remember this moment. It's always the unexpected ones that fight back."

She launched herself at him, trying to drag him through the portal along with her, back to a world Willow was on the mend with. She'd given her best friend the clearest unclear instructions she could muster.

_Save Sam, pull him through first and the rest will follow. _

How she'd gotten that information was nothing she was proud of. But at this point, Lucifer was almost on her trust list. So when he'd planted the thoughts earlier she wasn't so sure what to do with them.

* * *

_I really don't like that you are in my head. _Buffy spewed at him at the time.

Lucifer simply caught her gaze and held it before answering. The hallway outside where he'd just left Willow was a suffocating stance, but he only had this second. His brother was surely watching. Or would be very soon...

_I really don't enjoy being in your head Slayer. Just accept this parting gift of mine. And if you all survive this, tell the witch, your welcome, from me._

He'd placed his hands on her temples and instantly Buffy saw what he had seen, knew what he saw his brother for what he was, a fallen angel, a trickster by nature, yet underneath it all, a disillusioned boy still so young in many ways. Saw his plan and how he created his tricks, she saw Lucifer's mild affection for his younger sibling, and saw his wish for it all to end.

Buffy's head was reeling from the overload when one last important thought slipped her way. The key to all their lives. Buffy's necklace, and the last remaining piece of Dawn.

It held, even now, the power to open and close dimensions.

_Including those within our minds._ He spoke softly. Lucifer touched her necklace sweetly and again touched her temple; it was a compassionate gesture, one that spoke of his second thoughts about using the necklace for any reason. He somehow still cared for her baby sister. Buffy didn't like that.

But she didn't have time to dwell on it. With one last thought Lucifer was gone, his last words resounding with in her mind against her will.

_Pull back the curtain Summers, time is running out for all of us now. _

_How? _She sputtered at the empty around him, but his reply came nonetheless.

_Save Sam, pull him through first and the rest will follow. _

* * *

Buffy fell sideways, pushing The Trickster to the floor beneath her. He put up a small struggle but it was enough to give her a run for her money. She was a disaster of frazzled nerves right now and it made her hands shake unnecessarily. She grasped for his lapels and used it to steady herself above him. He was halfway inside the vortex, the wind and rage yanking at his clothes to be free of him. He resisted the powerful tug though, displaying himself over the slot with a fiercely angry Buffy straddling him in an attempt to shove him through.

Why he didn't just sift away Buffy couldn't say. Maybe the pull from the other worlds were too much, maybe his ability to flash between dimensions was stunted due to the key's power. Whatever it was Buffy couldn't have been more grateful. She threw a fist square on his nose, blood spurting against gravity's pull and splattering on her cheeks.

He struggled for release, biting final words at her that had no impact whatsoever. "You are making the wrong choices Buffy! I've been around a lot longer than you, I've seen the sort of person this world needs if it's going to continue. It's _you._ And you are throwing yourself away on that overgrown man-boy. He is _not_ your destiny."

Buffy raged over The trickster, throwing more punches at him. "Shut up! You don't know me or my heart, let alone what this world needs. You play the guessing game again and again and hope you are right, but half the games you play are just chance!"

He flailed as his left hand came loose from the side vortex, Buffy watched in horror as his arm sucked backward into the eye of the storm, dislocating itself in the process.

If he fell right now, she'd go with him, but where would they end up? Dawn's final essence had unlocked a door to another world but what world she couldn't tell. There was every chance if she stayed here she'd be lost forever, but if she went with him, she'd be lost all the same.

She voted for here. Maybe this was just another illusion after all, one she could escape from if The Tricky Angel was locked up in another time and place.

At the very least she knew he wouldn't die. Lucifer still had a small spot of strange twisted love for his siblings. He was helping the gang for other reasons, ones she wasn't exactly sure about. But his plan wouldn't have been one that killed his brother. Where ever this portal lead to, it would only slow The Trickster down.

"I did this for our sad little world," he choked out, "To show you you are needed and not just now! Things won't get better for us, we will always need warriors like you. Dean understands that, he will always be in the fight. Sam won't. He's weak."

Rage encompassed Buffy. "Sam is _not_ weak! He is the best man I have ever met, he carries so much shit with him, shadows so deep they would drown the rest of us, and he _still_ sets the bar higher every day for the person I want to become!"

Buffy's grip tightened as the vortex crawled closer to the end of The Tricksters boots, his heels dangling precariously. "I can't save you anymore," Buffy began, her voice trembling over the wind at her hair, "I want to, I want to be the person I once was before I jumped off that bridge into Heaven. The girl who had unyielding mercy." She held onto him, her arms quaking violently against the otherworldly strain of another lifetime calling for them both. "See though, this is where you are _truly_ wrong…because it's Dean who would show you no kindness, Dean who would tell me to let you go, you aren't worth saving. But _Sam…_" Buffy pulled back on the Tricksters Coat again, reaffirming her grip. "Sam would remind me of who I used to be once upon a time. The girl who was in the business of protecting the innocent, not punishing the guilty."

The fallen angels eyes glinted in the storm around them, wind whipped Buffy's hair in masses across her face, shielding her ferocity from him. She preferred it that way. Even after all this, even after the torment he'd put her heart through, she still wanted him to see her as a force for good, a fountain of unending compassion…because wasn't that why he started this little game in the first place? Because he was Team Summers...

For a real moment Buffy wondered if throwing the orb had been the right choice. It was soon washed away with The Trickster's last words. "Maybe I was wrong about you then Slayer. Maybe even after all this time, we _all_ still have a little something to learn. Have no doubt you will see me again. Have _no doubt._"

And with that he launched her from him, she took a hard hit to the wall behind her, sliding down with a few more broken ribs than she started with. She flinched at the painful intake of breath she dragged into her. A second later the portal was gone, taking with it The Tricksters form.

Buffy blinked in shock.

She struggled to regain her footing, wincing at the pain in her side. She refused to look at the bruise that was most definitely forming already on the right side of her ribcage.

With a flash so brilliantly white it threatened to burn her retinas, the stark white around her blinked into darkness, or what was left of the ones she'd left behind.

Bobby's rugs came up into view as she fell to her knees, dizzy from the sudden transition back into reality. She fought through the wave of unexpected nausea and forced the bile rising up back down.

Scraping to her feet with the help of Bobby's armchair she assessed her surroundings. It was exactly how she left it.

Her eyes darted to the clock. Only not exactly _when_ she left it…the numbers on the clock stirred her into slayer mode.

_Shit, not good, not good._ She searched around her again hoping maybe even if the time was right the date was not. The small moth-eaten calendar that hung on the wall behind Bobby's desk was torn off to the exact day she'd left behind…Buffy fingered for the gun that should've been tucked away beneath her shirt and found it snugly fit where she'd left it.

Her eyes fought for understanding of the clock again…because despite the stuck second-hand, the hour arm was inching backwards. _This can't be happening…_she watched in horror as time rewound itself, ending squarely on the instant she'd pulled the trigger.

Was she being given a second chance to do it all over again? And if so, by whom? Was this what the Trickster meant by she'd see him again? Maybe the portal had taken him back to this moment as well...

Buffy's hand lingered on the gun, sweat breaking out across her upper lip.

Time chimed out slowly, the forgotten hour being called into the present for the second time tonight. What if this was all part of the angel's trick? What if she was never meant to figure it all out? Who was pulling the strings to the final game now? Because she was sick of playing.

Whatever lesson the puppet masters were trying to teach her she'd show them the only thing she's _ever_ learned was how to overcome the impossible, courtesy of the only man she ever truly loved with a whole heart, even the broken parts.

Her very own hero. Sam Winchester.

Sam's face flickered before hers and in that moment she knew it had been him running for her when she'd pulled the trigger. Dean had been there too but it was Sam she had seen, Sam who had held her, Sam's voice that rang out above them all. Would he never know how much she loved him?

She could only mourn her own unspoken words, because no, he never would.

With that she lifted the pistol with every last ounce of strength she possessed and took the same path she had originally…the gesture itself spoke volumes, it said, _I am taught only the lessons I wish to learn. _She only hoped the correct eyes were watching.

When the trigger went off this time she closed her eyes, welcoming whatever came next with a free heart and a resolved spirit.


	22. The Why (Part 2)

Buffy blinked against the harsh light, adjusting faster this time to her surroundings.

"Second times the charm Slayer?" The Trickster laughed. "I think you are one chance away from that being true."

The Trickster came into focus before her, exactly where he was the first time she'd shot herself. Buffy pulled herself to her maximum height, trying her best to stand strong against whatever he had planned now. Instead he seemed serious, an air of sadness coating his usually gleeful stance.

"Can I ask you a question?" he started, the words spoken almost too softly for her to hear.

She frowned at the sudden change in him. "Haven't you already? Seems to me you just do whatever you want anyway."

She folded her arms across her chest, acutely aware of the fact that her ribs were still bruised. Had she gone back in time, or hadn't she? What sort of game was this?

He chuckled softly, snapping his fingers and opening the black umbrella from underneath his arm. It flounced open with a snap, making her jump. He twisted it gently between his fingers, dancing it back and forth before him.

"Really I am just a curious creature." He spoke quietly, as if to himself. "Blame and fault stains me, but I enjoy this world, _exactly_ the way it is. I don't wish for it to change, and especially not for the worse. So when I play these…_games_, it's for more than entertainment. That's just an added bonus." He locked gazes with her and for the first time since meeting him, she saw him as Lucifer must, a childish immortal, used to getting his way.

Gabriel rounded on her, presenting himself as if by magic. He spun away suddenly and his umbrella spun with him, when he stopped it was with his back to her. Peering out from behind the black umbrella he hid himself in the shadows of it, as if for fun.

"My question is simple, should you choose to just tell me the truth." He pulled himself up to his maximum height, holding his gaze over hers as if by force. "If you were going to choose Sam all along, in here at least,-" he thrummed on his chest over his heart, "-then why the big show of choosing Dean? Why torture the little brother with that whole speech of falling in love with Dean? I know that couldn't have been just for _my_ benefit."

Buffy shook her head, incredulous. "I needed to let him go to save him. Anger heals a broken heart faster. What I did was out of love for the only person who's ever made me feel more than just alive. I hurt him in hope that hate would seal the wound I was about to leave him with and keep it shut. I'd never risk him or his soul. He means too much to this world."

Gabriel reeled. "Now _you_ are the one who is indeed sick my dear. Because that's just twisted."

Buffy's expression darkened. "Sorrow is something you never recover from. I've experienced it a fair share in the last few days, weeks, months even-" She waved a hand up in the air like she was fed up, "Make that years, _hell_ my whole life. I've swam in a sea of sorrow so thick it threatened to drown me where I stood. Loss is not what Sam Winchester deserves from this world. Maybe my logic was warped, maybe it was flawed, but I've loved and I've lost, and I've come to terms and I've moved on. The first Buffy wouldn't have survived this pitiless world. But the second one wouldn't have escaped Hell without Sam Winchester by her side. What I did was as much for me and Dean as it was for him. I set us all free. Dean was resigned from any guilt, his realty safe. Sam was the siren call for his own world and choices to be pulled through saving his realty as well, combining both choices and both paths into one last choice. A second chance for everyone to do today again. Or at least the last minute…but sometimes a minute is enough. And Sam, Sam would be riding the scar of my betrayal by the time the bullet pierced my brain. He'd mourn and move on. And you, you'd have the choice you wanted and no reason to interfere any longer. But it wasn't just the choice you wanted was it? It was the _act_ of choosing. And the result of that choice."

Buffy moved an inch closer and watched closely at The Trickster's reaction to her. He played fancy and free, he acted foolish and fun, but underneath all that she thought she spied fear. The all powerful brother of Satan was afraid of her. And she'd be damned if she was about to let this opportunity pass.

As he conceded to her an inch, she pressed forward with her words as well. "I think you were hoping I'd not choose at all, weren't you? That I'd let both brothers go…"

Gabriel's mouth hardened as he spoke the same words he had earlier. "If you only knew, you wouldn't be asking me that."


	23. The Last Missing Piece

A Few Hours Earlier

Lucifer cast his brother a dark look. Gabriel returned it in spades.

"Your fascination with the Slayer is unhealthy Gabriel, don't you think this has gone too far?" A hidden warning rested beneath the surface of Lucifer's sudden words.

Gabriel's gaze wandered back to Buffy and Willow. The girls sat huddled together on Bobby's guest bed upstairs. They poured endlessly over the texts in front of them, silence enveloping the room.

Lucifer watched as his brother's eyes landed on the tiny blonde's face once again. Gabriel's stare was one that spoke volumes. And it had Lucifer worried for the first time since his brother had started lurking within his own game like this…

Lucifer knew the dangers of allowing this to go on, and he allowed it to anyway.

It said much of his trust for his brother. Or perhaps of how little he truly did care for the witch and her hapless group of misfit heroes. All he knew was he regretted aiding his brother in helping wipe some of the witches memories before her reconnection. It was all a game within a game for Gabriel but he was done with helping his brother play cover up. He wanted the witch safe.

He wondered grudgingly if he ever looked like Gabriel did now when looking at Willow. He could only hope not, because if so then the redhead knew of his interest in her. No person should have that sort of power over him. Then again, he was no one's ruler anymore. He was just a lost and hapless soul himself.

A misfit in any reality.

"You don't understand." Gabriel said in a low voice breaking the silence.

Lucifer shook his head. "I understand better than you think Gabriel. I _still_ think you are making a mistake provoking the slayer and her friends like this. Have you not thought of the consequences you will drudge up?"

Gabriel's eyebrows rose as his head cocked to peer over at his bother. "Consequences Lucifer? Really? I didn't know you even knew the meaning of the word."

Lucifer's eyes snapped to his younger siblings face. He once loved this little bastard. The bothersome and dutiful youngest archangel. The one who was forever torn between himself and Michael's constant bickering over humanity.

Lucifer's voice was resolute. "I think I've been around long enough to realize that nothing is exactly what it seems on the surface. I've been the living manifestation of the word consequence for all of humanities existence as long as this Earth has been. The horror of my name will live a lot longer than that. I _am_ the word, therefore I have become very familiar with it. So trust me when I say, you are bringing unwanted attention to yourself with this act. The slayer won't go out without a fight, she is unreasonable when it comes to the Winchesters. And you have already shown them your hand once, the witch will remember eventually…and now this. I fear you have outdone yourself with this round."

Gabriel's laugh was a stark one. "I don't understand you brother, are you offering me aid or saying you will not protect me any longer? Either way, no thank-you. I have been around as long as you and played these sorts of games almost as long as that." He rubbed his hands together in a gesture that told Lucifer if anything his brother was becoming nervous. But about what? "That girl needs to know the path she was on was the wrong one. She is a wonder in a world so lacking of such things." His eyes drilled into her as she frowned deeply over a certain book.

When Dean appeared in the doorway, making eye contact with the slayer that screamed of many things, Gabriel's attention sharpened. His mouth formed into a hard-line and his eyes narrowed on the eldest Winchester.

When Buffy's eyes urged Dean away, Lucifer found himself wondering what it was they were up to. Buffy's face softened, a brilliant yet almost unrecognizable smile adorned her lips suddenly.

Lucifer didn't need to listen closer to hear the sudden erratic beating of Gabe's heart. His vessel was betraying him in the same ways Lucifer's was.

Perhaps this was their Father's punishment for years of unfeeling observance and wrong choices. It's not like he would know, God hadn't spoken to Lucifer since he'd fallen. That was his true curse. Never having his home back…

Either way the brothers were being roped into unfamiliar territory. Feelings of the kinder nature didn't often plague them, but now it was all Lucifer could think about. Maybe Gabriel was experiencing the same things. If so, he seemed to see it as a curse. One he was pushing out of existence.

When the girls found themselves alone again Gabriel wavered from the dream like state he had been spun into.

"What is this _really_ all about Gabriel?" Lucifer asked, frustration evident in his tone.

Gabriel's mouth turned down slightly. He inched closer to Buffy, surveying her fragile features with a shadowed glance. "If you only knew, you wouldn't be asking me that."

Lucifer straightened. "It's because I _do_ know the answer that I am finally asking brother." He stepped in front of Gabriel, making a show of turning his gaze on the witch. He allowed his walls down for a moment, letting the feelings he had been fighting to the surface.

When he matched glances with his brother again Gabriel's eyes widened in surprise. "The oddball witch?" He smirked a bit in recognition of their shared situation. "See, now _that_ I would've never guessed Luci. Good luck with that one. She's a bit of a wildcard if you ask me. And have you seen the way she dresses? Ek."

Lucifer couldn't even laugh, because it was closer to the truth than he'd ever liked to admit. And even worse, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to stay out of this much longer if it came down to the witch's life. Even now the thought of Willow coming to harm sent unnecessary chills up his spine.

He picked at the flaking skin around a new open wound on his hand. His vessel was dying, and fast. He only had a small sliver of time left on this plane unless he took over his true vessel. But that wasn't really an option anymore for him. He wondered blandly if it ever would be again.

The answer could only be a resounding _no_. Sam Winchester was off-limits. And he hadn't the choices he once did. His road was a long one, and it had redemption all over it. Too bad the witch wouldn't live to see the changes he was prepared to make in himself. Too bad…

The moment was a heavy one. The ether taking on a new shade of urgency. He allowed his rampant mind to see the girls for what he once would've, as less than himself, lower beings. The feeling was a welcome one, but instead of satisfying his heart and mind it brought with it a sliver of shame.

He allowed it to embed itself in his mind, wreaking havoc on his new found feelings.

His brother's words broke the thick silence encroaching in on them. "Do you think I am a coward Lucifer?" He turned his face upward and for the first time since he'd fallen Lucifer saw real pain on Gabriel's face.

"I think we all are, brother. It just took us this long to realize it."

Gabriel nodded, his face a mask of confusion. "It's easier to run…" he mumbled, his eyes never wavering from Buffy's downcast face.

Lucifer stood his ground, fear entrapping them both in this moment. "Why do you think I fell in the first place?" he asked lightly, but it wasn't a question that sought an answer.

They both knew that this moment was a pivotal one, bridging the gap between where they knew they should head and where they were actually headed. But neither made an effort to change it. Lucifer could only hope they'd both learn the lessons this world was putting in front of them, because if anything, Gabriel was right about one thing, this dying realm was in need of people like Buffy…

Now the real question was; what was he going to do about it?


	24. From Under The Umbrella

Dean watched as Sam raged through the house, packing with lightning speed. "Sam!" he cried, his gruff voice barely breaking over the wave of noise Sam was making. "Sammie, _stop this_, we need to think."

Sam spun to face his brother, towering over him and for the first time using it to his advantage. "_No_, Dean, you don't get to be the rational one right now. Buffy is lying back there with half her brain on Bobby's carpets, and I just woke up into a world I am not even sure is real." He raked a nervous hand back and forth through his hair. "Y-You were dead. We buried you, we mourned. I have sat by and accepted a lot in the last couple weeks, but _this_-" His voice broke as he looked back to the couch where they had moved Buffy's body. His eyes shot back up to the ceiling in a failed attempt to squelch the tears that threatened. "I won't accept this anymore. I …_can't._"

His words were heavy and final. Dean welcomed them. He wanted to stop his brother, make him understand why they'd done what they had, but he failed when it came to Buffy's final actions. He couldn't fathom why she had done this.

She had made him promise to trust her. Now he couldn't have felt more foolish. This was Buffy after all, she wouldn't think twice about sacrificing herself to save them both. But they'd won the battle…Sam was here and Buffy had made her "choice" and chosen her brother…shouldn't the The Powers have ended this test by now? Why was Buffy's body still not breathing?

He lodged himself in-between Buffy on the couch and Sam's frame. He grasped for his little brother's upper arms balancing him out. "You look at me Sam, look at me!" Sam's frantic eyes darted back to Dean's face but he didn't relax. Sweat broke out on his forehead and Dean feared he'd fall into another Hell-encased vision. "We will figure this out, but you have to stick with me. She needs you here when she wakes up."

Sam grit his teeth. "She doesn't need me, she made that clear."

Dean fought back the urge to be truthful with his brother. That Buffy had only played this game to save them all, that in the end, her heart would always be Sam's. He wished he could convince him here and now that Buffy was Dean's family and he saw her as such, nothing more.

There was a time when his infected mind had played tricks on his heart, but those times were long past. If only he had the luxury of truth right now. But he didn't, because whatever Buffy was up to, it wasn't his truth to share. It was hers.

"Forget that, forget everything, right here, right now, life matters. All our lives. This world and the next. Now you get your damned self together and we will figure this out. You are not running off to try and sell your soul for her, you are not skipping down the rabbit hole back to Hell, you are here, and you are with us, and you _will_ fight this damn it!"

Dean's words shocked Sam back into the present, if only slightly. His brother nodded nervously, his face a wreak of emotions.

"Get Xander and Willow back in here, Bobby too. I have an idea."

Sam nodded but rambled off in search of the gang who'd disbursed before their final moments. Willow was recovering from her spell to the bridge the gap between the two worlds. She hadn't told anyone what she was up to, obviously another part of Buffy's final plan she hadn't felt like he needed to know until the last minute.

But then again she hadn't truly told him, he'd _seen_ what Willow was planning on doing. Seen it inside Buffy's head, when she'd let down a stone or two from her mortar strewn walls she'd bricked up. He'd known she was planning something big, but that last shred of information had helped him to stay calm when he'd seen Sam again for the first time.

It'd broken his heart not to trail after them. But standing his ground was something he was good at. He knew then how it was going to end, or he had thought so at least. He'd seen himself and his brother standing with Buffy for a final fight.

Buffy obviously saw it differently. And the part that had been forced to pull the trigger was hidden behind too many brick walls for him to get to. She'd kept that part of her plan hidden well. Whatever she was doing, he could only hope this wasn't it. That she hadn't left them here to start fresh without her…

She must know they all deserved more than that. He closed his eyes against an onslaught of raw emotion. _Buffy, what have you done?_

When Willow returned half being carried by Sam, Dean pulled himself straight._ You don't have the luxury of mourning her. Not now…_

Giles, Bobby and Xander followed suit, Xander dragging a reluctant Anya behind him.

They all stood in a semi-circle, weighing the air around them.

Dean broke the silence first. "Did any of you know?" His tone was sharp and to the point, but they all knew what he was talking about. He needed to know if anyone else knew about Buffy's plans to kill herself, and if so, what end was she trying to reach.

The room remained silent, some heads wagging but no tongues lifted against the weight of such a question.

Dean nodded, resolute. "Willow, if it's not too much to ask, can you…" Dean swallowed hard, trying to force the words out without his voice breaking, "Can you get in there and see where she is and what's happening." He made a half-hearted gesture towards Buffy's body.

Xander's eyes widened on the scene before them all and the task at hand, but remained silent.

Giles shook his head, "I am not sure that is wise. Buffy isn't in another reality anymore, she isn't merely sleeping." He looked on the verge of crying himself.

"What other choice do we have? We can't bury her and move on." Dean forced out.

"We might have to!" Giles yelled, anger encompassing him suddenly.

Sam's face took on a look of pure fury. "No! We are not burying her, she's not dead."

Giles moved closer to her blanketed figure so still beneath the surface. "She shot herself point blank, she isn't with us anymore. We cannot mess with the same primordial magicks we once did. It was wrong then and it's wrong now. Buffy would want us to move on."

Sam's head never stopped shaking, his lips forming a hard line. "You are wrong, she would want us to figure this out. We still know nothing!"

"Because she left us all in the dark," Xander interrupted. "She must have wanted it this way."

Willow sank into Bobby's chair behind his desk, pouring over the books in front of her, her fingers nipping at the pages at a rapid fire pace. "We can get her back, I just need a few supplies." Her head shot up, a dawning look on her face. "And the orb."

Giles stepped closer to Buffy's hidden corpse. "Willow, this is wrong, you knew it then and you know it now. We cannot keep playing God."

Xander fretted. "Giles is right Will, as much as I don't want to let her go, she couldn't have wanted this. She barely survived coming back the first time. So did you, and that was before you weakened yourself dragging Sam across universes. I can't let you do this."

Willow paused, torment on her face. "This is different!" She pleaded.

"How?" Giles asked.

"She wasn't killed, she made her own end, there is no promise she is in Heaven like before."

Giles shook his head. "That was a sacrifice she made before, this was a choice, she could've stayed and fought but she didn't."

Willow stood on shaky feet. "You are making it sound like she did this to escape, like she wanted death, not resolution." Her eyes searched Dean's, and then Sam's, hoping for some help from the brother's. Dean tried not to look away.

He wasn't sure if he had it in him to fight with the ferocity both Willow and Buffy deserved. He was weakening his resolve to save Buffy by the minute. What if she was simply escaping the choice she feared she had to live with? Could any part of Buffy be that selfish?

He shook his head in despair. "No," he made eye contact with Giles, taking up invisible arms with Willow. "She wouldn't do this for any reason. And it wasn't a split second decision. She must have known something we don't. We need to find out what that was, before it's too late."

Sam moved to reach for the blanket covering Buffy but Bobby interfered, placing a warning hand on Sam's arm. There was no force behind it but the whole room felt the weight of what Bobby was trying to say.

Sam shouldn't be allowed to see Buffy like this. Not again. It was bad enough they'd found her a second after she'd let loose that fatal bullet. Dean wasn't so sure Sam would recover from another glance.

Bobby reached beneath the blanket and frowned as his hand roved across Buffy's body for her necklace. When he pulled his empty hand back the gang moved in closer in their confusion.

"What's going on?" Anya clamored, "Is it gone?"

Dean pushed through the small crowd forming and lifted the edge of the brown rustic afghan. He braced himself for the sight before his eyes. Seeing her like this sent his mind into oblivion, he was lost to the false grief he wouldn't allow himself to feel. _This is not the end._ This would _not_ be the end.

He heard Bobby and Sam's intake of breath at the sight of Buffy's blood stained hair, Dean tried to keep the rest of her covered the best he could. His fingers scanned her ice cold flesh again and again, gathering blood beneath his fingernails in search for the Orb of Thesulah. The last in existence and the placeholder for Dawn's last shred of being.

He withdrew his hand slowly. Realization becoming the common enemy in the room. "It's gone," he spoke numbly, "It's not there."

Sam's lips opened in anger but closed again just as swiftly. He looked to Willow for answers but she seemed to be at a loss for words herself.

"Where could it have gone?" Anya asked, anticipation in her voice.

"She never took it off." Willow stated solemnly as if to herself.

Sam's face snapped to Xander's then back to Willow's, he rounded on her in desperation. "Make a new one! You made that one, you can make another."

Willow's head shook violently, tears crashing over her eyelids. "I-I can't."

Sam seemed closer to the edge than ever. His face flushed, sweat trickling from his temples and matting his hair to his scalp. "Why not?"

Willow looked more defeated by the minute. "What I did to make the first one…" She glanced at Xander as if for aid in getting the words out. He merely nodded. "I can't do that again. I don't have it in me."

Sam refused the explanation she was offering. "Not good enough, you try again, you try harder, you make another _now._" He leaned into the space in front of Willow and she flinched at the stare he laid on her.

The other's stood on nerves edge, awaiting Willow's response. She only shook her head, the tears coming faster.

Sam's fists fell onto the desk, rattling the contents upon it. Willow jumped, a cry coming from her in surprise.

Instantly Lucifer sifted in front of Willow, leaving no room for her to see around his figure. She gasped when he turned on her, a strange look crossing his features. He touched a finger to her tears, gently commanding, "Stop that."

She bit back on her lips, visibly trying to restrain herself. Dean watched it all with horror. What the _fuck_ was happening? Lucifer showing Willow a kindness? And why was he even here anyway? Perhaps Giles was right when he said the King of Hell wasn't likely to hurt them, that his interest in the group was of another nature. Dean, however, was less convinced.

He'd been to the pit and seen the creatures and creations Lucifer was once so very proud of. The angel was not to be trusted, not matter how nice he played with the others.

"This isn't happening!" Sam yelled, clutching at his head. He cried out in pain, falling to his knees with a loud racking sound. Dean couldn't have raced faster to his little brother's side, his heart in his throat.

Sam fought him off, screaming for it all to stop. A second later Lucifer was kneeling beside the Winchesters, and with a snap of his fingers put Sam's unstable mind into a deep sleep.

Dean scrambled to right his brother's fallen figure, checking for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found it beating strong.

He laid a brutal accusation on Lucifer all the same. "If you've hurt him so help me God-"

"God won't be helping anyone at this point in the game Dean." Lucifer interrupted.

Dean's jaw clenched against his will. "What are you doing here?"

Lucifer shrugged. "Nothing productive unfortunately." Willow's now dry eyes widened as Lucifer cast a small glance back at her. "Or perhaps you could say I am trying to keep a promise I made."

Bobby grunted as if in disbelief. Dean understood that feeling. "Step away from her." He warned, his eye trained warily on Willow's form behind Lucifer.

Lucifer raised his brows in surprise. "No wonder you have been two steps behind in all this, boy. You seem to think I am the enemy here."

Dean reached for the gun in his back pocket, narrowing it on Lucifer. He knew the action itself wouldn't harm the fallen angel, but the gesture screamed _Back off._

He could only hope Lucifer got the message. Lucifer chuckled, but took the card he'd been handed and disappeared without another word.

Willow peered over at Dean, relief on her features. He nodded at her in return. "You alright?"

"Yes." She said softly.

He stepped over Sam's unconscious figure and laid a gentle hand on her back. Her warmth felt foreign and the action was a forced one. He'd always admired Willow's strength and bravery but he'd never really gotten to know her. He supposed that was his fault. When things got rough Dean ran, and it was usually away from Buffy and her gang…

He was beginning to understand why the path less taken is the most rewarding. Willow offered him a smile that warmed his heart. She trusted him, and in turn he felt a piece of his soul reaching out to trust her as well.

It went against everything he believed in. It was always him and Sammie against the world, he even kept Bobby at an arm's length at times.

But the moment was a revelational one for him. This gang, these _people_, were his friends.

He wasn't alone anymore. Not since one tiny girl had decided he was worth stopping to save. Had he ever truly thanked her for that? For rescuing him from the pit? For opening the door on another chance to make things right.

He wasn't even sure in all the chaos that followed if he had. He could only hope now that he would have the chance to one day. Buffy was family. The missing sibling he never knew he needed. The one who pushed you until you didn't think you could take anymore then stood at the finish line for you to come to the realization you could do it yourself all along.

He fisted the palm on Willow's shoulder, moving away from her stiffly. This was it. The _real_ Eleventh Hour, and he'd be damned if Buffy hadn't left them with a trail of bread crumbs as to where she'd gone.

The girl was brilliant. And he was sure she had a master plan in all this. He just needed to step inside her shoes for a bit and see for himself exactly what that was…

Good thing he had a witch handy who could help him do just that.


	25. The Rains Point of View

Dean floundered inside the spell Willow had cast, trying to gain a sense of proportion into the objects around him. For some reason everything seemed so much larger, so much brighter…

Was this how Buffy viewed the world? _Gods…_

His eye line was off and he had zero control over his own actions yet he somehow still _felt_ everything. The bizarre spell was wreaking havoc on his mind and he tried to focus harder to get around the limitations.

When he'd suggested to Willow the idea of memory-reawakening she hadn't a clue as to what he was talking about. But in the book-plow Sam and Bobby had come across a strange ancient Mayan tradition of past-life sharing. Willow had immediately known what they were talking about, learning a similar spell from a coven of witches a year or so back.

Only Willow hadn't preformed it on anyone who was no longer alive. Sam had said that shouldn't matter, seeing as most people's past lives happened in another body altogether. It was a soul joining spell…and it oddly enough made Dean terrified of what he'd see inside Buffy's final moments.

A part of him wanted to beg Sam to do this for him, but he couldn't…Sam deserved the truth from Buffy about their final actions from her own two lips. It wasn't something that should be stolen from her mind without her consent.

Dean straightened inside Buffy, acutely aware of the action he had no control over.

The next few moments slid by in a flurry of images so bright he wasn't sure if the spell was working correctly. Was the journey like this for everyone or did Buffy simply view the world in different terms than the rest of humanity?

Everything green stood out, catching his eye time and again. Faces blurred together, recognition walking a fine line of confusion and understanding. And sounds came to him in a higher pitch than he was used to.

He listened to the beating of his own heart above half the things said around him. It was distracting, _all_ of it was. How did Buffy even go about life with this collage of tie-dyed emotions choking her?

Her mind touched on Sam's face every other moment and he almost lost himself under the weight of her affection for his little brother. She _really_ did love him with all her soul.

Suddenly Dean felt ashamed for his behavior towards her when she'd first entered their lives.

Yes he had been poisoned by _The Beast_. Yes the pit had rubbed his heart raw and set his mind askew. But he should've seen her for what she was all this time instead of what he wanted her to be.

The missing piece of his heart. A friend. A fighter. A sister. And the best damned thing to happen to the Winchesters since their Dad had died.

Buffy's mind was in constant chaos and confusion. He was baffled by how she kept such a calm visage when _this_ was what was going on inside of her the whole time. Anger, rage, fear, love and loss broiled through her on repeat.

By the time she pulled the trigger on herself Dean had the whole story, but it was like he was reading it in another language. Some parts still didn't make sense.

She had known when she shot herself that it wasn't the The Power That Be pulling the strings. But she couldn't have known what she was getting herself into. The Trickster was a hard bastard to kill, and now Dean knew why, he was an angel, and not just any angel…Lucifer's brother and one of the four archangels of Heaven.

By the time Dean snapped awake back in his own reality, he had a wealth of information he wasn't sure what to do with.

They were fighting a losing battle. Because they'd all be damned if he had any clue how to kill an angel.

* * *

Gabriel toyed with the umbrella in his hands, surveying Buffy from a distance. She was a vision of beauty and fury. He'd been hiding down here on this wretchedly broken planet, crawling amongst the insects, since the dawn of time. But none had moved him quite the way this one tiny girl did.

What was so different about her? He wished he knew.

He'd played these sorts of games before, even tormenting the Winchesters on a couple occasions for a laugh or two. There was a point he even felt sorry for the youngest Winchester, sending Sam back in time to before Dean had died and giving the brothers more time together.

He had pretended the games he played with the brothers were nothing, but a part of him was jealous.

The Winchesters were each others ultimate weakness. Without each other the other was never truly whole. He'd longed for that himself, ever since Lucifer had carved his own path away from Heaven and his brothers he left behind.

He missed Michael and Raphael, and even Lucifer. He missed his Father.

He'd buried those feelings for so long, knowing he should never be the first to admit such things. He was one of the original angels. A warrior and messenger of God. There was no room for the compassion his Father seemed to have an unending supply of.

He spent his life on Earth indulging in the carnal pleasures and baser joys life had to offer.

But nothing filled the void.

He was lonely. And he saw no end for this feeling that slowly was rusting away the steel around his heart. Until now…

Could this trio of forsaken soldiers, human and flawed as they were, be a beacon of hope for not only humanity but Heaven above too?

He hadn't thought it possible to have such hope, never even knew the feeling existed. Until he had heard of the closing gates of Hell. Lucifer was coming around and the Slayer had lead the charge against him, helping to lock the doors to the pit that had driven such a large wedge between Lucifer and his forgiveness.

Gabriel now saw an end to all this pain he carried. And it started with the petite blonde before him…

As he conceded to her an inch, she pressed forward with her words, driving them home. "I think you were hoping I'd not choose at all, weren't you? That I'd let both brothers go…"

Gabriel's mouth hardened as he spoke the same words he had earlier. "If you only knew, you wouldn't be asking me that."

Buffy's eyes narrowed on him in suspicion and he tried to keep a clear head. "Why is everything out of your mouth a puzzle?"

Gabriel's heart leapt at the accusation. _She sees right through me._

Buffy paused before him, seeming to relax a bit. "Why the tricks? Because laughter is easier than the alternative?" She broke into silence and he opened his mouth to give a witty retort but she quickly cut him off, "Look around," she made a wild gesture of looking about her, it was mean to be menacing, but Gabriel couldn't help but find it adorable. "No one is laughing but you…" she trailed off.

His heart hammered erratically. She was close to seeing past his facade. The Trickster. The Jokster. The Laughing Angel. The neutral brother. He'd spent too much time building up his own burdens to let one small girl knock them down with a single sentence.

He hadn't quite felt this way since he'd tricked Sam into thinking Dean was dead and buried for months. Even then the Winchesters had intrigued him, representing a place holder for hope in this wild world he loved so much.

Hope was a harsh word for any angel. It was the first one they were taught, yet the most difficult to hold onto the longer you lived. And Gabriel was looking at eternity.

Instantly he saw this game for what it was…just another funny distraction.

And Buffy was right, no one was laughing anymore. Not even him.

With a wry smile he cocked his head at the slayer. "I can make you forget this. _All_ of you." The words were dull, they held no real threat, in fact, they came across as a gift. He was offering her a way out of what he'd done to her. But would she take it? At this point he didn't know…

She was as unpredictable as the wind. The direction of Buffy Summers life failed to be controlled, as did fate.

Buffy's face was a vacant mask. If any emotions rumbled through her, she let none show. "Going back to where you started solves nothing if you don't remember the journey that brought you down the wrong path in the first place."

Tension bunched around the odd pair. White illuminating the false world around them. Testing Buffy anymore would only harm them both. A part of him had wanted her to refuse his choice, another part hid his feelings towards her behind the eldest Winchester, hoping she'd not lose herself to love when she was needed in the final fight he saw coming for this broken world…and soon.

But all of that was pointless if Buffy refused to be taught his twisted lessons.

His heart ached at the sight of her. Could it be he felt a rare form of pride for her right now?

He wasn't sure how that felt exactly. But if anything this whole mess had shown a light on his brother's true feelings of late. He wondered mildly if after all this Lucifer would continue to keep an eye on the red-head. He chuckled to himself about the look on Lucifer's face when he had watched Willow.

Buffy's eyes widened at the sudden glee that encompassed him. With the snap of his fingers he transported her back to the beginning of _her_ game…back to before she'd taught him a thing or two about submission and fate.

Back to when she'd narrowed that gun on herself and unknowingly gave him the greatest gift he's ever been given.

The promise that behind every sacrifice lies a heart so unyielding it _still_ has the power to create miracles in the absence of faith.


	26. Skies Still Blue

By the time Buffy's knees hit the solid floor of Bobby's house for the second time in how many minutes, she was exhausted. When a set of strong arms enveloped her, she immediately knew it was Sam.

Her heavy head rested against his shoulder and his warmth soaked into her chilled bones.

She let the moment drag on for a little bit too long before snapping to and trying to follow his frantic conversation. "What are you doing? _Buffy?_ Buffy! Can you hear me?" Sam's voice strained in vain.

Buffy managed a nod, not wanting to own up to what this moment looked like. Instantly Dean was behind him, an otherworldly scowl brandishing his otherwise handsome face. "She okay?" He barked at Sam, making a point of ignoring Buffy.

Sam fidgeted, adjusting Buffy in his arms as he helped her up. "I think so."

His soft sigh said much. The brother's always had that easy way of communicating without words. Buffy was somewhat grateful for the fact that she could too now. Although she wasn't exactly sure why…

"Was she about to do what I think she was?" Dean said through grit teeth, his eyes on the hand gun at their feet. Buffy watched his eyes harden on the pilfered object.

Sam whispered as if Buffy couldn't hear although she clearly could, "I'm not sure."

Buffy rolled her eyes, her strength returning. "Why in God's name are you talking about me like I am not standing right here?"

Dean straightened, his penetrating glare pinned on her. Buffy refused to shrink away from his silent accusations. Her choice was hers and hers alone, and she wouldn't allow even a shred of guilt to conform around her already battered heart.

But it was Sam who broke the silence first, "What happened, Buffy?"

She looked at her soul mate dead in the eyes and for the first time in weeks, let loose a carefree smile on him. Her grin so wild and free she felt it in her toes. The brother's looked startled for a moment, exchanging glances that spoke of the possibility of Buffy's sudden insanity.

She quickly shook her head at them. "Would you believe _anything_ I told you at this point?"

Sam's grip tightened slightly on her arm. Buffy rebuffed it for a moment, if only to prove she was sound of mind. "You are the proverbial white flag Sam. I think you were sent to stop me."

Sam's brows rose, his eyes jerking back to the gun, "From making the same mistake twice?"

Buffy laughed. "_No,_ from having to teach someone, yet again, that our mistakes can often be deliberate. But in the end, they are _ours_ to make."

The brother's looked confused. Buffy only smiled harder. She wasn't sure how they made it to her side _before_ the gun had gone off this time but she was positive it was Gabriel's doing. He was changing the circumstances. And in a huge way, it said simply, _you win…_

She threw a reassuring glance at Sam and Dean, looping both their arms with her own, leading them off into Bobby's kitchen for the explanation of a lifetime…

They were going to need a stiff drink, _or three_, because this was going to take a while.

* * *

By the time the air cleared the next day, Buffy was ready to head back to Sunnydale. Giles and a grumbling Anya had been appointed to pack the car while Willow and Xander said their goodbyes to Bobby. Dean had sprung wings and was off in the opposite direction on a new lead.

No rest for the wicked, he'd said. And Buffy supposed that was true. Her interactions with The Trickster had impacted Dean the most. He'd come to sees Buffy as family and his own self-assessments were best put to work on the road. He needed this time to clear his head. The entire house sensed it and let him go with a hopeful heart but weary glances.

However, Buffy knew the truth, they'd see him again soon. He just held his emotions in the strangest of places. And fortunately for the gang, most of them resided back here with them.

Sam was acting strangely and Buffy knew she owed him a heart to heart.

Yet a part of her feared his reaction. He'd seen her kiss Dean, but would he really believe it was all an act? She'd told the brother's the bottom line of what had happened, but left out a few details for her own sanity.

Dean had accepted it all. Yet Sam had had questions.

She smiled wryly at herself in the mirror. The gang was probably ready to leave and here she was procrastinating upstairs in hopes she'd have more time to linger around Sam. A part of her hoped he'd return to California with her. Rationality told her the harsh truth that he probably wouldn't.

If anything Sam's questions eased her mind. He tried to make sense of who she was. Always with the puzzle pieces, trying desperately to get every inch of her figured out. There was a time, even recently, when she would've feared his interference. But now she knew, it was _because_ he pried that he cared. He pushed her, time and again, to be that piece of herself she feared to be in front of the world.

To accept herself at his side for everything she was instead of hiding who she _could_ be behind her own actions.

Under his gaze, she grew, even against her own will. He was her sun. He gave her life without even knowing it.

When a knock came on the bathroom door, almost instinctively she knew it was Sam. "Buffy?" His concerned voice crept through the wood. "Are you okay?"

That was a loaded question. She almost laughed.

Instead she opened the door, preparing herself for his presence in her thoughts. The look on his face almost broke her heart. He thought he was losing her again.

By the time they made it to Bobby's front yard the whole gang had packed into Giles' old clunker, grins on their faces at the prospect of going home intact. She hurried towards Willow, giving her a quick explanation of a needing a few moments alone with Sam.

All she could hear as she ushered her Winchester away to the Salvage Yard was Anya's whining about how long it would take.

Sam's face was solemn.

Buffy didn't know where to start. Yet she felt like her time was limited. When the first words tumbled out she could tell Sam wasn't expecting them…_Good, he needs to hear this._

* * *

"I feel like I can't leave you without telling you that you are the love of my life." Buffy's words landed strong and true from her lips, her eyes never leaving his face.

Sam's heart jumped wildly at the declaration but he tried his best to stamped it down. He couldn't allow himself to believe her, not after what he'd seen.

"I know it might be too late. I know…" She trailed off, her voice gone hoarse. She blinked back tears and tried to continue. "But sometimes you can only understand your heart after you've given it away. And I didn't realize until recently that'd I'd given mine away long ago...to _you_."

Sam tried to stay stoic. He tried to give her room to get out whatever was plaguing her. But all he wanted was to throttle her. She was the other half of him, always would be, but she had dragged his heart through the mud one too many times…he wasn't sure if he'd ever be whole enough to forgive her for what she'd done.

"What happened with Dean…it wasn't what you think. I did it to set you free. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I did it for you." Buffy's face twisted slightly, her lips curling in before sprouting back into that solemn face she so often wore. He'd seen this side of her before. She was trying not to break.

Sam surveyed the moment, trying to grasp the concept she was introducing. Yet Buffy was a strange soul, he found it hard to follow or translate her motive. He was sure a part of him would never quite figure her out. The more he knew the more he wanted to know. It was as if she held some power over him.

Because loving Buffy Summers was akin to a curse.

He absentmindedly rubbed at his chest over his heart, drawing her gaze.

Immediately he snatched his hand away. He'd be damned if he let her see how this moment hurt. He'd given her up in his heart but he knew deep down his soul would always want hers.

This moment would define many things for him. But he'd never forgive himself if he asked the wrong question and blew it for them both. When her eyes met his again he immediately knew the only thing he really wanted to know…he just hoped he got the answer he wanted.

"What does Dean mean to you?" Sam asked, his voice gone rough from emotion. He hated how weak he sounded. In front of the strongest soul he'd ever had the horror of falling in love with, it was an intimidating thing.

Buffy's face lit up in a rare way. Jealousy fought to overtake him. Would she ever look like that when thinking of _him_? "He was the brother I never wanted." She started, shaky laughter in her voice. "I fought him long and hard, but yes, he crept into my heart."

Sam's face contorted in confusion, yet he couldn't help but agree, "He has a way of being the most annoying person alive that you can't help but love."

She wrinkled her nose, "Precisely." Buffy rubbed the end of her sleeve over her cheek in a nervous gesture. Sam tried to focus on the situation yet couldn't help but be distracted by her fretting.

_Does she always have to look so very beautiful?_

Instantly Buffy's face took on a shadow of darkness, as if she was remembering something painful. "He killed my sister," she said slowly, "I harbored a shred of hatred for him for a very long time, even after he helped me save you and save the world. I felt shame for it, so I buried it."

Sam waited. His heart in his throat.

She drew in a deep breath, never avoiding his eyes. "I think to accept you, _all of you_, I had to accept Dean as well. You two are sort of a package deal. I knew that, but I wasn't ready until now to _fully_ accept it." When the first tear slipped free and fell down her cheek it took all his strength to stand his ground. "I'd just lost a sibling. I wasn't ready to care that much for another. But he had that distinct quality, that annoying, irritating love only two siblings can share in together. It took me too long to realize you were the family I always needed, even if I wasn't ready to admit I wanted it yet. And I swear to you that _no one_ has ever had as much of my heart and soul as you do. I love you Sam Winchester. With all of me and with the rest of my days, I will keep on loving you."

She advanced a bit, clearly not giving up. Sam managed to take a breath. The very one he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Her kiss with Dean, that searing moment…It was all an act? Buffy's heart was still only his…

She inched even closer to him, as if afraid she might scare him off. He fought the urge to lean into her, to bury his face in her hair, to grasp at her very soul. She would always call to him, but she still had so much to explain. If he gave his trust back to her it'd be lost along with his scarred heart.

Yet all he wanted to do was erase what he had seen. Her actions were loud but her words explained so much, he only hoped he wasn't just reading into to what he wanted to be true. Could she truly belong to him or would he be always chasing an impossible dream?

Her small voice broke into his thoughts. "I don't know what is around the next corner. But I _can_ tell you that every moment since you came into my messed up life you have made me want to be a better person." Buffy's eyes widened on his, another bought of tears threatening. "I have never been so afraid of letting someone down. I pushed you away time and again even while clinging to you. You saw in me someone I had thought died when I jumped off that bridge. A person I never thought I'd see again." Buffy shifted in her shoes, leaning towards him.

Sam didn't budge, but it took all his willpower. Her warmth was electric, her words like weights around his heart. Suddenly he was afraid of breaking the illusion she was creating. _Please let this be true…please._

She took a fragile breath before continuing, "I didn't _want_ to be that person anymore. It was easier to run. But you never relented." She gave him a watery smile. "You saw things beneath the surface I'd fought so damned hard to bury."

Her shaking fingers slipped into his. "You brought me back to _life_." She whispered, her voice gone ragged. "Where my soul resides doesn't matter if it's not whole to begin with. And where my body rests is pointless if it's only going through the motions. Willow may have brought life to my limbs, and Dawn may have reawakened my heart, but _you_…You called my soul back from the dark. What I feel for you is immeasurable. And each day it only grows. You have all of me Sam. You always will."

Her words held a weight over his chest, threatening to cave in on him. Sam watched her break. Watched the steadfast soldier she so often was crumble. The bricks surrounding not only her body and soul, but her heart and mind as well, started to fall.

Sam leaned into the moment, feeling closer to her than he ever had.

Instantly he heard her voice echoing throughout the cavernous depths of his mind. _I am yours_.

Startled, his eyes widened on hers, seeking reassurance he wasn't just hearing things. She nodded, biting at her bottom lip. They were speaking without sound. How was this possible?

He projected a simple question in her direction, opening his mind to her. _Always?_

Her grin told him she had heard him. Wonders never ceased, perhaps she held some sort of magick after all. _Until my last dying breath… and long after that._

The invasion of thoughts threw him for a moment, it was a strange feeling. Like being sucked under quicksand, unable to escape. Her words soaked his mind, stretching outward as if reaching for his very being. _I love you Sam. And I will waste every last second I spend breathing proving it you. _"If you let me." The last words were spoken aloud and Sam watched her lips move in amazement.

He was sure he'd never feel this way again, not after losing Jess. But this was so much more than that. This was all encompassing. As much as he'd loved Jess, he couldn't justify his feelings for Buffy. They were against his better judgment, they were against his very will. He had no say in the matter, he had no control. _She was his._ She belonged by his side, and no matter how twisted it all was, for better or for worse, he knew they'd always be in each other's lives.

Because no matter how he felt about it, he'd never be able to let her go.

He supposed, after all this time, he finally knew what true love felt like.

And it damned well hurt.


End file.
